Checkmate
by Star Shadow 4
Summary: Sequel to 'Chessgame': The tables have turned! Now it's Aya and Ken's turn to fulfill the bet. Can they do it? Yaoi, fluff: YO, AK, BS, minor FN.
1. Day 1: Tennis friends and I'm not Omi

Disclaimer: It's not mine. It never will be. Acceptance is the first step to recovery.  
  
Warnings: Let's see. . . yaoi (duh), sap, fluff and perhaps minor swearing. I'm not sure. I'd need to check.  
  
A/N: Sequel time! I have to say I'm a little depressed about the sequel at present. It isn't coming out quite like I wanted it to, but I guess I'll just have to deal with that. I also read an author's document the other day that noted the sequels are never as good as the originals. . . . Hopefully it won't suck. Maybe it's too sappy now? I've tried my best to keep it humorous, but I'm not sure if I've done a good job. . . anyway, please read it and review so I know how badly I'm failing. Heh heh heh. Self-depreciation.  
  
Anyway - Aya and Ken are now the ones trying to fulfill a challenge - seduce each other! Will it work? Or will Yotan have the last laugh? Stick around - we've only got seven days to find out! Here goes nothing!  
  
It was another beautiful Monday in the Tokyo suburbs - cats played in the alleyways, birds flew to and fro along the rooftops, the roads hummed with the rumble of car engines. The laughter of happy children wafted through windows and doors, making all those who heard it smile indulgently at the nostalgia of youth. And in the local flower shop, one Koneko no Sumu Ie, another contest was being held - but this one was more comical than its predecessor had been.  
  
It ought to have been easy, really. It ought to have been a piece of cake for both duelists to complete their missions successfully. Aya should have been able to have walked up to Ken, handed him a bouquet, caught the brunette when he inevitably fainted, and the two of them could rub it in Yohji's face for the rest of the week. Unfortunately, there was a problem. Actually, there were a couple of problems. The first problem was that the two contestants weren't aware that they'd been set to the same task. Because they didn't know they were working toward the same goal, they felt they had to be sneaky about it. Because they were being sneaky, they were taking their time. This was the first problem.  
  
The second problem was that Ken was rather shy. He could be stubborn and daring when required, and he was often brash with Yohji, but this contest was a different story. If he were just trying to complete Omi's challenge, he probably wouldn't have been shy at all. But Ken wasn't just trying to complete the challenge. Ken was playing for keeps. And that made him nervous. And his nervousness made him shy. And so he did nothing but shoot Aya covetous glances all day.  
  
The third problem was that Aya, for all his confidence in accepting Yohji's dare, didn't really know how to go about beginning. Aya wasn't a natural-born flirt like Yohji, and he was quite unsure how to work up the courage to approach the brunette. Granted, he knew what -not- to do - Yohji had demonstrated that beautifully. Why, a week ago after the chess game, had Aya accepted Yohji's dare? Because he'd noticed that the person about to enter was Ken, and he'd gotten a sudden inspiration. You see, Aya had been meaning to approach the brunette himself, because he liked Ken - a great deal, actually. He thought they could be friends. Well. . . not "friends", exactly, but you get the idea. The thing is, he needed a chance to study Ken's reactions so he would best know how to go about winning his teammate's heart. (A/N: Awwwww. . . )  
  
In this way, Yohji's dare was a stroke of incredible luck for Aya. Yohji could fumble about horribly and Aya could study Ken's reactions, thereby establishing a strategy of his own. It had never occurred to Aya, by the way, that Yohji might succeed. (A/N: Cocky, isn't he?)  
  
So now Aya had his strategy. It was, he was certain, an infallible strategy, sure to carry him to victory. But things like this made him decidedly uncomfortable. So he was delaying. And so was Ken. And so neither of them was getting anywhere.  
  
Thankfully for everybody, because this story would be pretty darn boring if Aya and Ken just stood around looking at each other for a week, our favorite florists were about to be blessed with divine intervention. As Aya watered the daisies and Ken tried to encourage himself to at least -speak-, a little bell rang on the door, alerting the two that they had customers. Two boys, obviously somewhat younger than the assassins themselves, entered the shop and glanced around. The black-haired one, obviously intent on accomplishing his purpose, looked from side to side and headed for Ken at the counter. The pretty flowers immediately distracted his companion, a redhead. The boy's blue eyes grew wide, and he practically bounced around the shop in an Omi-esque fashion. Aya watched the energetic customer in consternation for several minutes, then went back to watering the flowers.  
  
The boy's companion, who seemed much calmer, asked Ken if he could do an impromptu arrangement - happy to get his mind off the present dilemma, Ken agreed. As he carefully placed the flowers, he asked, "So - who's the arrangement for?"  
  
The boy smiled genially. "A friend of ours," he answered. "It's his going-away party today, in about an hour." A slight frown creased his fair features. "My friend forgot to tell me until just now."  
  
"Ne, ne, it's not -my- fault!" the redhead broke in from across the shop. "I had a lot on my mind, aité! I had to buy a new toothbrush, and then we had practice this morning, and Ochibi got me into that argument, and then -your- birthday's coming up, too-"  
  
The dark-haired boy blushed. "I told you not to fight with the chibi anymore, baka. And anyway, there's no reason to get all excited over my birthday." Ken wondered at this. The redhead pouted, then went back to examining the flowers.  
  
The other boy sighed, then gave Ken a curious look. After a moment of silence, he said, "I'm sorry - it's none of my business - but is everything okay? You look a bit down."  
  
Ken blinked. Then he sighed and decided a counselor might be beneficial. With a wry smile, he said, "No - I've got a lot of problems right now, actually."  
  
The boy looked genuinely concerned. Noticing how Ken glanced in Aya's direction, he lowered his voice and asked, "What's the matter?"  
  
"Well, it's just-" Ken broke off, not sure whether he should mention Omi's dare or not. Deciding to leave that part out, he continued, "There's this person that I - I really like." He blushed brightly. "But, well - I don't think they feel the same way at all." He resisted the temptation to search out Aya with his gaze. "I don't know what to do about it," he finished lamely. "I don't know whether I should approach them or - or what."  
  
The customer gave him an encouraging smile, his dark eyes sparkling brightly. He bobbed his head in understanding. "I know how that can be. My advice is that you go for it. You never know - maybe this person's just as shy as you are. You'll never find out unless you take the initiative, ne?" Ken nodded slowly. The boy accepted the completed arrangement and took his change, then paused on his way to the door. "Think about it," he encouraged. Ken nodded again. The two shared a look of understanding - then the shop was split by a high-pitched cry.  
  
"OISHI!" The black-haired boy winced. His redheaded companion latched onto his arm and began tugging him toward the door. "Can we go yet, can we go yet, huh huh huh?" Oishi sighed and smiled lightly at his companion.  
  
"Yes, yes - calm down, Eiji. Someone gave you sugar again, didn't they?"  
  
"Hai! Onee-chan!" Their laughter faded as the pair left the Koneko and wandered down the sidewalk, Oishi's words still echoing in Ken's ears. Silence reigned once more throughout the flower shop as Ken pondered his course of action. Steeling himself, he marched over to where Aya was standing and drew himself up in an imitation of bravery.  
  
"Aya," he said firmly, attempting to command the redhead's undivided attention.  
  
Aya turned to him, and one look into his violet eyes sent shivers down Ken's spine and his world spinning out from under him. All thoughts of grandeur faded as he sighed and searched for an excuse. "Er - we're out of flowerpots," he said lamely, kicking himself mentally for his cowardice.  
  
Aya arched a delicate eyebrow. "There are more in the storage closet," he intoned. Ken blushed. Nodding mutely, he wandered into the supply closet, gratified to see that at least they really were out of flowerpots in the storefront. Glumly, he grabbed a stool and hoisted himself onto it, negotiating how best to get the heavy ceramics off the top shelf.  
  
He paused and berated himself for being such a wuss. He'd have to make a move at some point, and Aya wasn't likely to fall all over him for announcing that they were out of flowerpots (especially when they weren't). Ken shook his head. That Oishi boy had given him some good advice, and he was too much of a coward to take it. Furious with himself, Ken pulled a heavy stack of ceramic into his arms.  
  
Most unfortunately for Ken, he overbalanced. You see, he was a good twenty pounds heavier now and he accidentally rocked backwards on the stool, which toppled over, taking Ken with it. Ken yelped. He squeezed his eyes shut and clutched the pots to his chest, preparing for his no- doubt rough reunion with the floor.  
  
It never came, however. Ken's eyes shot open, and he found himself cradled in Aya's arms, the flowerpots still crushed against his chest. He gave another startled cry and Aya almost dropped him; thankfully the startled redhead regained his composure and managed to keep a firm grip on Ken. Ken blushed as Aya set him down gently next to the overturned stool and took the flowerpots out of his hands. "Th - thanks Aya," he said quietly.  
  
Aya frowned lightly as he examined the ceramics. "It's good these weren't broken. They're fairly expensive." Ken averted his eyes, and Aya mentally smacked himself. //Baka! Now he thinks you just caught him to save money!// Aya told his inner voice to shut up, then he leaned forward and brushed Ken's bangs out of his eyes. Ken looked up, clearly startled.  
  
"You aren't injured, are you?" Aya asked, trying to make his voice gentle and worried (and largely succeeding). Ken's blush deepened.  
  
"No, I just. . . you know - klutz attack," Ken stammered as Aya leaned the brunette against his shoulder.  
  
"Hn. . . " Aya graced Ken with a small smile then helped the younger man to his feet; Ken's face was tingeing on purple by this point. Slowly, carefully, Aya pulled his arms away, keeping eye contact with Ken the whole way. Then he gave his coworker one last soft smile and departed the supply closet, leaving Ken to stare after him.  
  
Aya gave himself a figurative pat on the back and began to plot his next step.  
  
*********************  
  
Late that evening, Yohji staggered into the living room completely un- drunk. Why was he staggering, you ask? Because Yohji was so accustomed to being drunk by this time of night that he'd learned to walk better with the alcohol than without. Aya's alcohol ban was officially driving Yohji crazy. He had considered breaking the promise - considered? Hell, he'd gone for it. And he would've made it, too, except that he'd run into Omi while his arms were still full of beer cans. His lover had taken the alcohol away and threatened to "go tell Aya-kun" on him if he tried it again.  
  
So Yohji was un-drunk. He peered groggily at Ken, who was watching T.V. and laughing loudly. Shaking his head to clear it, he wandered into the kitchen and noticed a figure bent over the stove. He remembered it was Omi's night to cook and smiled to himself. Then he grabbed Omi around the waist and spun him around, giving him a nice passionate kiss in the process.  
  
Omi gave a very un-Omi-like squawk and twisted away, shoving Yohji so hard that the older man fell into the sink. The water, which happened to be running at the time, jolted coldly across his back, and he yelped loudly. A flurry of frantic footsteps was heard, and then Ken appeared in the doorway, panting lightly. "What's going on?" he queried breathlessly.  
  
Yohji blinked at Omi. "What was that for, Omittchi?" he asked, indignant.  
  
"I am -not- Omittchi," came the deadly voice of Fujimiya Aya. Yohji swallowed hard. Ken looked back and forth between the two men, obviously confused.  
  
"Aya?" Yohji croaked. Aya nodded dangerously, wiping furiously at his mouth. "Oh," Yohji said, trying to smile at his violence-prone leader. Aya glared as powerfully as he could, which was pretty strong after all (Yohji felt the ends of his beautiful hair begin to singe), then turned again to the stove. Ken, losing interest in the situation, went back to the T.V.  
  
Yohji stood up, once again completely soaked (what was it with people and getting him wet lately?), and moved to the refrigerator in search of leftovers. A pasta dish caught his eye, and he shoved it into the microwave. He glanced over his shoulder at Aya, then at the pot his leader was stirring - it looked terrible. Moving to stand behind his companion once more, he asked, "So - whatcha makin', fearless leader?"  
  
Aya grunted noncommittally and continued cooking. Yohji rolled his eyes, then noticed a dusty-looking cookbook on the countertop. Raising an eyebrow, he teased, "A love potion's cheating, Aya."  
  
Aya snorted derisively. "It's not a love potion," he answered testily. Yohji shrugged, having expected this. What he did not expect were Aya's next words. "It's a sleeping draught."  
  
Yohji choked on his macaroni and cheese. "What?" he managed, gaping at Aya wide-eyed.  
  
Aya rolled his eyes. "A sleeping draught. I was under the impression you took them daily, with the amount you sleep." Yohji thought hard for a moment, then gave his companion a suspicious look.  
  
"Ken and Omi have the morning shift tomorrow."  
  
"Aa."  
  
Yohji's jaw dropped. "You're going to drug Ken?"  
  
"Aa."  
  
"But you hate it when he misses his shift!"  
  
"Aa."  
  
Yohji pondered all this for about five minutes, then concluded, "So you're going to drug Ken so that he misses his shift and then, after taking it for him, act all benevolent and kind about it?"  
  
"Aa."  
  
Yohji rolled his eyes. "Aya that's ridiculous."  
  
Aya shook his head. "No, it's subtle. And subtlety is the main strategy here." He poured a few drops of his thick brown potion into Ken's coffee and proceeded into the living room.  
  
Ken, who was watching an anime by the name of Inu-Yasha, looked up as Aya entered the room. Gratefully, he took the coffee Aya proffered and smiled in what he hoped was an attractive way. "Thanks Aya. I guess I forgot it." Aya reached out and ran a hand down Ken's smooth cheek.  
  
"Hn. . . " he said softly. Ken gulped. Yohji, watching from the kitchen doorway, shook his head as Aya sat down next to Ken and brushed their hands together.  
  
//He's pretty good,// Yohji thought to himself. Then he rushed to the sink and washed his mouth out with soap, still having trouble believing he'd kissed AYA. In the living room, Aya watched with internal glee as Ken downed the coffee and hidden sleeping potion. Now the plan of Fujimiya Aya would be revealed in all its glory.  
  
Ken had better watch his step.  
  
End Day 1  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
All right! First chapter up! Yay! The crossover this time was from a series called Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama. I'm thinking I'll probably put at least one crossover in each day - it's just fun to do that. So - what do you think? Will Ken and Aya ever get anywhere? Will Yohji survive without his liquor? Will Bradley dearest -really- be more important in this story than he was in the prequel?  
  
Brad: I'd better be.  
  
Stay tuned and find out! R + R please! 


	2. Day 2: Ken the NotSoCowardly and Aya die...

Disclaimers/ warnings: See first chapter. I still don't own them. That'd be cool, but. . . no.  
  
A/N: Okkei, day two begins. Ken's been drugged, Aya's being subtle, Yohji's going crazy, and Omi is still in la la land. Good for him! Schwartz has yet to make an appearance. Ken and Aya have yet to win. We have about six more crossovers to go. Basically, we're just starting.  
  
Nagi: Get on with it, will you?  
  
Fine. Jeez. You know what's a cute nickname for Nagi-chan? Naggles. My friend came up with it.  
  
Nagi: Call me that one more time and I'll kill you in cold blood.  
  
Vicious. Anyway. Let's get this started!  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ ______  
  
When Ken awoke the next morning, it was to the cheerful chirping of songbirds and the distant, muffled sounds of morning traffic. He stretched luxuriously and sat up in bed, smiling lightly to himself. Collapsing back onto his heap of blankets and pillows, he reminisced about the day before and reviewed his plan for the day. That's when he began to curse and leapt out of bed, suddenly remembering that he had the early shift. Then he paused, one arm in his shirt and one arm out. He realized all of a sudden, with a great feeling of dread, that it was 10:00 in the morning. And his shift started at 7:00. Aya was going to kill him.  
  
To his credit, Ken managed to get dressed in all of about 12 seconds. Within another five, he'd washed his face and run a comb through his haphazard hair. By the time twenty seconds rolled around, he was down the stairs and in the kitchen hastily stuffing food into his mouth. Yohji, who'd been sipping leisurely at his coffee, dropped his half-eaten toast and his jaw hit the floor at the sight of the Ken-hurricane wreaking havoc in the kitchen. He didn't have time for questions, however, because Ken shot into the store like a nuclear missile the next moment.  
  
//Well,// Yohji thought to himself as he resumed eating his breakfast. //Old Aya certainly inspires an impressive work ethic.//  
  
Meanwhile, Ken had located Aya, who was working diligently on the overnight arrangements. "Aya!" he cried breathlessly, "I - I'm sorry - I overslept-"  
  
To Ken's complete surprise, Aya merely smiled gently at his impassioned tirade. "It's fine, Ken," Aya said softly. Ken nearly died. As if it weren't enough for Aya to be completely gorgeous when he was a cold, cruel bastard, now the redhead was -smiling- at him, too? It was just about too much for Ken's pretty-Aya-immunity system. Aya must have noticed Ken's questionable condition, because his brow furrowed and he reached out to place a hand on Ken's forehead. "Are you all right? You look. . . tired."  
  
Ken jolted as Aya touched him, then he blushed madly and stammered, "No - no, I'm fine, it's just - I, uh-" //Think!// his brain yelled. Ken decided to play the guilt card. "I - feel awful that you took my shift, Aya. Wake me up next time." Aya nodded, but there was a glint in his eye that Ken found curious.  
  
They were distracted from further conversation by the customer-alert- bell ringing. Both florists looked up to find a boy and girl, probably about age 17, talking angrily to each other. The customers both had bright blue eyes and blonde hair, and were similar enough that they might have been siblings. The boy, who they couldn't see very well because he'd moved behind the exotic plants, cried, "For the last -time-, Cleo! Master doesn't like flowers!"  
  
"Nonsense," the girl, Cleo, said haughtily. "Everyone likes flowers." Her eyes went all sparkly and chibi-ified. "I should get him roses. Beautiful red roses. Then he'll truly understand how much I lo - er, how angry I am with him for taking my sword."  
  
The boy hung his head in despair. "Why do I even bother?" he said aloud. Just then, Omi entered the shop and walked over to the male customer, who was fingering the daffodils lightly.  
  
"Can I help you?" he asked cheerfully.  
  
The customer turned around, and Omi gasped. He found himself looking into the face of a boy who could have been his identical twin. Both boys blinked at each other, bright eyes vast in surprise. Then Omi squealed happily. "Majic!" he cried. The boy gasped.  
  
"Omi?" he said in awe. Then he was thoroughly glomped by his very excited sales personnel. Their high-pitched, excited voices bounced throughout the shop.  
  
"Oh Majic, I heard you disappeared!" Majic laughed at this.  
  
"Nah, didn't my father tell you? I've been out with my master, Omi. We've been all over, and I got into the Tower of Fang - but I dropped out - and-"  
  
"Majic!" the girl called Cleo yelled, much to Aya's annoyance. She marched over to the two boys and grabbed her companion's ear roughly. "Who is this?" she demanded.  
  
"My cousin, Omi - ow, let go Cleo!" the boy said plaintively. Just then, the bell rang once more and a brown-haired man of perhaps twenty entered the store. Both current customers started. "Master!" Majic called in surprise.  
  
"Orphen!" the girl cried. Then she snatched her badly-chosen flowers from Ken's workstation and thrust them into the man's face. "Here," she said, trying to sound unconcerned. "For you."  
  
Orphen looked at the flowers disapprovingly. "What are these for?" he asked, disgust clear in his tone.  
  
"Well, y - your birthday was last week, Master, and I forgot to get you a present so-" Majic tried, stuttering over his explanation. Orphen smiled at his apprentice.  
  
"Aw, thanks Majic - I honestly didn't think you'd remember." Majic blushed and began muttering under his breath. Cleo watched the new arrival indignantly.  
  
"Hey! Those flowers are from me, too, you know!" Orphen snorted.  
  
"Yeah, but if I thank -you-, you'll get some crazy idea that I appreciate your attentions or something." He motioned Majic toward the door, still lecturing Cleo on her ridiculous theories. Majic hugged Omi goodbye and followed his master, dragging Cleo open-mouthed behind him. The door slipped shut, and all three florists stared at it for several minutes. Then Omi sighed happily and went to find a broom.  
  
Ken blinked in utter confusion. Was that really a sale? Who were these people? Why was Omi so friendly with them? Questions still riddling his mind, he turned to Aya, a small frown on his lips. "Aya?" he asked, looking, to Aya at least, completely adorable. "What just happened?" Aya shook his head, no answer forthcoming. Ken sighed dramatically and went back to making the flower arrangements, trying to make up for time lost when he overslept.  
  
As he blended the beautifully colored flowers with incredible precision and delicacy, filling orders for birthdays, anniversaries and the like, his mind wandered. He spent a bit of concentration worrying about soccer practice the following day - coming up with new drills was always a challenge - but quickly shifted his focus to more pressing matters. Like the challenge. And the bet. And his complete lack of progress. He needed to take the first steps in his plan to seduce Aya - so far, he'd managed to prove himself a coward, fall off a stool, sleep in, ditch his shift, and otherwise embarrass himself. Ken reached for the last chrysanthemum and shoved it unhappily into the arrangement. He knew he'd have to come up with a plan eventually (or maybe not so eventually), but whenever he even -thought- about pursuing Aya, he got all flustered and shy and unsure of himself. Ken fingered the yellow roses distractedly. Would Aya respond? His teammate had been quite accommodating these last few days, but all it served to do was make Ken even more lovesick and nervous than he'd been to begin with. Ken sighed as he thought about Aya - his mind wandered completely off-task, and he managed to knock all of his flowers off the arrangement counter.  
  
Cursing lightly, he bent to pick them up; as he straightened, he saw Aya standing in front of him, reaching out a red rose he had dropped. Ken looked at the flower. He looked up at the beautiful expression on Aya's face. It was too much. Ken couldn't help himself; he fainted.  
  
Aya watched in shock as Ken tumbled backwards, losing consciousness as he fell. Thankfully, Aya's reflexes were quick, and he managed to catch Ken before he hit the ground. Just then, Yohji walked into the shop. He froze when he saw Aya, a rose clutched in his fingers, kneeling on the floor with Ken in his arms, beautiful flowers scattered all around him and light from the front windows dancing across his striking features. Yohji simply stared. Omi, coming to stand beside his koi, gasped. When Yohji finally recovered his voice, he said, "Damn Aya - that's pretty dramatic."  
  
Aya glared and him and growled low in his throat. "He fainted," the redhead explained, pulling Ken farther into his arms.  
  
"Of course he fainted!" Yohji cried passionately. "Our poor little Kenken couldn't handle something like -that-! I can't believe you actually pulled something this romantic!"  
  
Aya rolled his eyes. "I didn't," he protested. "Kudou - pick up these flowers and finish the arrangement. I'll take Ken into the living room."  
  
"Wait a moment, Aya-kun!" Omi cried. Aya looked back down to his prone comrade. Without warning, a bright flash lit up his vision, and he was forced to blink rapidly several times. "There!" Omi said happily, lowering the camera from his face. "It's such a pretty image - you want a copy, Aya-kun? I know Ken-kun will." Aya grunted, but Omi took it as a yes and skipped off gleefully. His leader glanced down at Ken's beautiful, peaceful face and smiled. Then he stood and deftly carried his companion into the apartment. Yohji, shaking his head in bemusement, began again on the arrangement, leaving the red rose to one side.  
  
********************  
  
Ken slowly regained consciousness to find himself lying on the living room couch, Aya at his side with a cold flannel. Ken started to get up, but Aya held him back, a severe expression on his face. "You said you were all right," Aya said grimly when he finally spoke. Ken blushed.  
  
"I'm not - I wasn't - I'm not sick Aya," Ken tried. Aya merely gave him a skeptical look.  
  
"You fainted," Aya said flatly, as though this explained everything.  
  
"Yes but - that was. . . " Ken stumbled, wondering how to make the redhead understand. Without really thinking it through, he said bluntly, "Aya, do you know how amazingly beautiful you are?"  
  
Aya's eyebrows shot straight to heaven. Ken blushed scarlet. //Baka!// he berated himself. //You aren't supposed to just -say- things like that! It's supposed to be all mushy and romantic and crap!// Unknowingly deepening the hole he was already in, Ken tried again. "I mean, uh - you with that rose - it was kinda overwhelming. I - um - oh, never mind," Ken finished confusingly, face the color of tomato soup.  
  
Aya patted the cloth over Ken's face again, thinking hard. //Ken thinks I'm beautiful?// he wondered, an unconscious little tingle shooting up his spine at the idea. //Maybe I can capitalize on this.// Aya smiled at Ken and watched the brunette's reaction. Pleased, he pressed the flannel over Ken's eyes and handed his still-blushing companion a glass of water, moving back into the shop now that he knew Ken was going to be all right. There was a lot on his mind now - his task was becoming easier.  
  
Ken lay still as Aya left his side, pondering this turn of events. He'd screwed up and told Aya rather plainly that he found the man beautiful, but Aya hadn't glared at him - Aya had -smiled-. This was something, all right. Maybe Aya wouldn't mind his advances after all. Maybe Aya. . . Ken shook his head as he sat up. It was too much to hope that Aya might feel the same way. But if Aya didn't mind, at least he could be a bit more straightforward. Ken felt courage building inside of him. He was Ken, after all - Ken the Mighty. Well, Ken the Not So Cowardly, anyway. He wouldn't back down from a challenge, no matter how deadly or perilous it might turn out to be. Aya might be dangerously beautiful, but Ken was stubborn, and he wasn't giving up on his love for anything.  
  
That decided, Ken still needed a plan. Slowly rising, he glanced from side to side as though searching for inspiration in the apartment's common room. Finally, his eyes settled on the kitchen area, and he started. Kitchen? Cooking? There was an idea he hadn't thought of. What did Aya like to eat, anyway?  
  
Ken wrinkled his nose unhappily. Aya liked casseroles, and soufflés, and lasagna, and all sorts of things Ken found -way- too fancy and difficult. Putting his disgust aside, he headed to the kitchen and rifled through the cookbooks. Luckily, Aya had bookmarked all of his favorite recipes, so Ken found them easily. He stared back and forth between the green-bean casserole and salmon soufflé with extreme trepidation. Drawing himself up bravely, he started on the side dishes, all the while chanting, //I can do this - I can do this. . . // Ken smiled to himself. Aya was even worth tackling a French cookbook. Love truly was indestructible.  
  
********************  
  
Somewhere in the flower shop, Omi hummed as he worked amongst the roses, picking out the wilting ones nestled carefully in their compatriots and setting them to one side. Much as he felt bad about throwing them out, customers didn't pay for bad flowers [1]. He paused and remembered all the action these roses had seen recently - from secret messages to insults to dramatic photo opportunities. . . he giggled. Then he got an idea and arranged a new message in the flowers, pleased with his ingenuity and sentimental phrasing.  
  
Omi went back to plucking the dying flowers out of the masses, breaking lightly into song as he did so. "One heart you are following, one dream keeps you wondering, love lights your way through the - OUCH!" he yelped suddenly, pricking his finger on the omnipresent thorns. He popped the bleeding finger into his mouth and scowled cutely - before he knew it, Yohji was at his side.  
  
"What's wrong, Omittchi?" he asked, worry just edging his voice, though he tried to sound unconcerned. Omi felt like squealing. //He cares! Oh, I always wished-// His thoughts broke off when he noticed Yohji was staring at the roses. Omi blinked as Yohji turned to look at him, a smile he'd never seen before on the elder man's lips.  
  
"I love you, too, Omittchi," Yohji murmured, crushing Omi against his chest and tangling his fingers in his koi's soft hair. Omi just smiled.  
  
Aya, entering the shop from the back closet, paused and watched them. He opened his mouth to tell them to get back to work, but he closed it again without making a sound, shook his head, and headed out to finish the deliveries. //Sometimes,// he told himself, //even Yohji needs a moment.//  
  
**********************  
  
Ken stared disconcertedly at his casserole, currently taking a turn in the oven. He grimaced slightly as he glanced over the directions again. //Is it supposed to be all. . . brown like that?// he wondered as he looked back and forth between the picture in the book and his concoction. Then he shrugged and threw the book in an energetic heap on the table. //Oh well. Too late now.//  
  
Cooking was a lot more difficult than he'd imagined it might be - granted, he'd cooked some things before, like microwave dinners, but nothing nearly as complicated as that damn casserole. The directions took up two and a half pages! Ken grumbled as he made the accompanying salad. Tomatoes, lettuce, avocado, carrots - they all found their haphazard way into the mixture. Thankfully for Ken, he'd found some leftover pizza in the refrigerator - at least -he- wouldn't get food poisoning. The others were on their own.  
  
Salad completed, he went about setting the table - he smiled to himself as he recalled just how housewife-y he'd been today. Making dinner, setting the table, doing the laundry. . .  
  
He was interrupted by several things happening at once. The telephone rang. The timer on the oven went off. And three very hungry, very tired florist-assassins entered the living room. Ken grabbed the phone, shut off the timer, and somehow managed to tell off the telemarketer while simultaneously shoving his companions into their dinner seats and yanking scalding food out of the oven. When he hung up the phone a moment later, he found his colleagues watching him anxiously. Finally, Omi spoke.  
  
"Anou, Ken-kun. . . is dinner ready?" Ken nodded, thoroughly pleased with himself for having decided on the cooking idea. As he set all the dishes carefully on the periwinkle-blue tablecloth, Yohji asked,  
  
"So. . . what'd you make us, Kenken?"  
  
"Casserole," Ken responded easily, setting said entrée down in front of his friends. Much to his joy, it presented a rather appealing picture - hopefully, it would taste as good as it looked.  
  
Aya was floored. He looked at the casserole. He looked at Ken. He looked back at the casserole. Ken watched him anxiously; clearly, the redhead was deep in thought. Finally, Aya managed, "Ken. . . you don't cook."  
  
Ken smiled at him. "First time for everything."  
  
Aya looked back at the meal before him. "But Ken," he said again, "you don't like casserole."  
  
Ken blushed to the roots of his hair. //He remembered! My god - he does notice me!// In a small voice, he said aloud, "No, Aya, but - you do."  
  
Aya looked at him sharply. "You made this for me?" Ken's blush deepened, but he met Aya's stare and nodded. Aya's gaze softened. Carefully, he took a small bite of the casserole on his plate. Immediately, his eyes shot open and he swallowed hard. This only caused him to start coughing violently, to the horror of his teammates. Ken squeezed his eyes shut. //Oh my god, I killed Aya!// his shattered mind screamed. //I didn't think -anyone- could cook that badly! I'm a murderer! Wait - I was already a murderer - oh but this is different! No, Aya, you can't die! Gah!// He was startled by a warm hand on his face. His teal eyes shot open to see Aya looking at him in what might have been complete and total adoration, a pale hand on Ken's tan cheek.  
  
"Ken-" Aya said breathlessly. Ken's heart leapt into his throat. "Ken this is - amazing. How did - how did you-" Aya broke off, unable to put his admiration into words. Ken blinked rapidly several times, trying to make sense of the situation.  
  
"You - you like it?" he asked incredulously.  
  
"Love it," Aya said, holding his gaze. Ken sighed in relief. Suddenly, both florists realized Yohji and Omi had started devouring the casserole with a vengeance. Aya found Ken's hand and squeezed it slightly; Ken felt the heat rising in his cheeks again. //Maybe I'll cook more often,// he mused amid Omi's shrieks of delight. //I knew it would be worth it!//  
  
End Day 2  
  
____________________________________________________________________  
  
[1] - This was sort of supposed to be metaphorical for his life as an assassin. You know - removing the 'dead flowers' from the rest of society.  
  
The crossover with Orphen? I had to. It's my personal opinion that Omi and Majic could switch series and nobody would know the difference. Well, until a mission came along at least.  
  
Aya: Bombay, take out the guards.  
  
Majic: Wha?  
  
Ken: The darts! Quick!  
  
Majic: Gah! (randomly throws darts in all directions)  
  
Yohji: Ack! My neck!  
  
Or, alternately. . .  
  
Orphen: You can do it, Majic - we've been working on this all week, remember?  
  
Omi: Er, uh - go spelly-thing!  
  
Cleo: You idiot! Don't you even remember the incantation?  
  
Azalie: RAWR!  
  
Omi: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!  
  
So, yeah. That's my theory anyway. Poor Aya - he almost died! That would really suck for my romantic comedy, though. Please review - I'd like to know if it's living up to your expectations. Plus, the money we get from reviewers is the only way we can pay Nagi's Internet bills. ^-^ 


	3. Day3: PIKA PIKA!

Disclaimer/ warnings: You get three guesses and the first two don't count.  
  
A/N: Yay for reviewers! And thanks especially to Sky Rat-san for telling me that sequels are good after all. It makes me feel better about putting off my summer homework to write this. ^-^. Anyway, time for a brand new day! What challenges will our friends face today? What new series will the author inevitably slaughter with her random crossovers? Good question! I can't remember! Let's find out!  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _______  
  
Business the next day found Aya and Ken working the morning shift (Ken having set no fewer than 5 alarms that morning). The fangirls were in and out like a tsunami, managing to knock over thirteen displays, buy all the cattaleyas, and one bold one even dared to pull on Aya's eartails. Unfortunately for the vengeance-obsessed redhead, no one ever figured out which one it was - he was tempted to kill them all after that. His death glare got the girls out of the shop faster than usual, and Aya spent the whole rest of the midmorning sulking. His beautiful hair! How dare they?!  
  
Ken, diligently sweeping up the masses of flower petals triggered by the Mach 3 fangirl winds, wandered over to the rose bins. He noticed the message Omi had left and smiled to himself. Omi and Yohji's relationship filled him with constant glee; Omi had never been happier, he could tell, and that made Ken happy, too. Besides all this, he was extremely relieved that Yohji wasn't really interested in him. Ken shook his head. -Yohji-. Ick. Setting the broom to one side, and assuring himself there was nothing important to do in the shop, Ken began to play with the roses - his new all- time favorite pastime. He made a picture of a soccer ball and several stick figures, one of which was undeniably gripping a katana and mouthing 'Shi-Ne'. Ken giggled lightly to himself. He felt a bit childish, but he was thoroughly amused by his new art-set.  
  
Aya, on the other side of the shop, frowned as he watched Ken dallying in the roses. It seemed that roses were all Ken cared for these days. Aya brushed his fingers over the neglected freesias and proceeded to his companion's side, raising an eyebrow in what might have been amusement at the sight of his rosy counterpart. Ken didn't notice the real redhead's presence, so Aya cleared his throat gently. Ken jumped.  
  
"Ken," Aya intoned, adopting a gentle lecturing tone, "what are you doing?"  
  
Ken looked at his hands, full to bursting with pink rose blooms. Biting his lip, he said, "I'm, uh, making you a bouquet!" He pushed the flowers into Aya's hands, cursing his lack of originality.  
  
To his surprise, Aya blushed. Gently, he put the flowers that now matched his face back into their respective bins. "Ken," Aya tried again, "you spend too much time taking care of the roses." He gestured vaguely toward the rest of the shop. "You need to take care of the other flowers, too - the gentians, for example." Aya crossed his arms in front of him. "You haven't watered them for several days. They'll wilt soon."  
  
Ken flushed, embarrassed. It was true that he'd been spending a lot of time with the roses lately, but, well - "I just like roses the most, that's all," Ken mumbled. //They remind me of you,// he added silently.  
  
Aya shook his head. "Roses are tougher than most of the other flowers - the don't deserve such gentle attention." Ken scowled lightly.  
  
"That doesn't mean they don't need taking care of," he announced defiantly. "The gentians will be fine." He brushed his fingers over the roses again. "They're very pretty - they deserve whatever care I'm giving them." He met Aya's gaze steadily, trying to convey what he was really saying through his eyes.  
  
"They don't suit you," Aya said softly, startling his companion. The redhead fingered the gentians, tenderness evident in his features. "Roses are too harsh for you, Ken. Cruel, and cold, and. . . "  
  
"And beautiful," Ken interrupted him with a sigh. Aya smiled wryly.  
  
"And why wouldn't that be a point in your favor?" Aya asked gently, tucking a stray gentian behind Ken's ear. Ken blanched. Drawing back to the counter, Aya called, "Please take care of the other flowers, Ken." //Well done,// Aya thought to himself as he began the momentous task of accounting the month's profits.  
  
Ken stood by the roses, swaying on his feet, mind absolutely frozen. //Oh my god, he said I'm beautiful,// Ken thought to himself. Then he recovered himself and a lovely smile came over his face. //He said I'm beautiful!// Ken felt like skipping, dancing, and singing. He felt like feeding abandoned children and donating to goodwill and funding environmental protection and-  
  
"Ken," Aya said suddenly, "you're soccer practice starts in ten minutes."  
  
Ken yelped. He snatched his soccer cleats, threw his apron in a heap on the floor, and tore out of the room with a series of panicky cries. Aya shook his head and picked up the gentian that had fallen from Ken's hair - he tucked it behind his own ear and continued calculating. When Omi entered some time later, it was to see Aya practically floating about the flower shop.  
  
"Anou, Aya-kun, you have a flower in your hair," he observed, clearly confused. Aya turned to his coworker, bright-eyed.  
  
"Aa," he said simply.  
  
Omi watched as Aya retrieved the broom and finished sweeping, humming lightly under his breath. "Aya-kun?" Omi asked. "Why are you so. . . happy?"  
  
Aya suppressed a smile but graced Omi with a low chuckle. "I have a chance, Omi," he whispered. "A chance."  
  
Omi couldn't help himself. He grinned.  
  
******************  
  
Yohji grumbled to himself as he wandered down the sidewalk, kicking bad-temperedly at the gravel covering his walkway. He was in a terrible mood, mostly due to his lack of alcohol. That wasn't what was bothering him at present, however. What was bothering him was how much progress Aya was making in his Ken-quest; Aya seemed to be having a much easier time of it that Yohji had, for all his worldly experience.  
  
Yohji wanted to chalk it all up to beginner's luck, but he had a sinking feeling there was more to it than that. He was afraid there really -was- something serious between Aya and Ken. And that frightening thought was all that kept him from interfering in Aya's attempted seduction. The last thing he wanted was to break his two teammates apart - after all, they were both indirectly responsible for getting him and Omi together. Yohji shook his head. If Aya won, he'd be punished again, and that might mean even more time without-  
  
Just then, Yohji ran into someone. He wrenched backwards to find himself staring straight into the amber eye of-  
  
"Hello Kitten," Farfello said, licking his ever-present knife. "Lovely day for a walk."  
  
"I thought Schwartz kept you safely on a leash," Yohji spat, faking bravery - he'd never had to fight Farfello before, but from Ken's escapades with the man, he could guess at how vicious this particular enemy was.  
  
Farfello grinned maniacally. "Oh, they let me off sometimes. Lucky I found a playmate."  
  
Yohji watched his opponent worriedly. He had his wire with him, but he wasn't sure how much use it would be against Farfello's ruthless knives. He took in Berserker's ready posture, sharp weapon, silver flask-  
  
Yohji's eyes widened. Farfello had whiskey! Without thinking anymore, Yohji hurled himself at the Irishman's feet, hands raised in supplication. Farfello moved back, clearly startled, but Yohji crawled after him. "Please - please have mercy! Alcohol - need alcohol!"  
  
Farfello tilted his head to one side, watching his enemy reduced to begging. He looked at the flask in his scarred right hand. Then he laughed loudly and deeply for a full five minutes. He leered at Yohji, then hauled the blonde to his feet, throwing an arm around his shoulders and pressing the flask to his parched lips. Yohji sighed as he downed the burning whiskey. It felt good to be defiant.  
  
"Come with me, Kitten," Farfello chuckled. "I'll buy you a drink." Yohji nodded happily. All of Schwartz could be waiting for him - he didn't care. There was only so long he could ignore the lure of alcohol.  
  
************************  
  
"Ken-niichan! Ken-niichan!" Ken laughed as he passed the checkered ball expertly to his excitable little charge and corrected the child's dribbling. The boy, one Zelgadis, ran toward the goal, kicking the ball sloppily in front of him. Another of his teammates charged in and knocked the ball away, and the two ran headlong into each other.  
  
"Xellos-kun!" Zelgadis howled. "What was that for? I was so close!" Xellos shook his head as though trying to clear it. He winked at his playmate, then scurried off to rejoin the fray.  
  
"Ken-niichan! Look out!" ten voices cried. Ken spun around to see the errant soccer ball headed straight for his face. Thinking quickly, he bounced if off his head and then flung himself backwards, kicking the ball over his head and into the waiting goal. The kids cheered as he landed hard on his back.  
  
"Ne, Ken-niichan, teach me how to do that!" Lina-chan squealed.  
  
"Ken-niichan, are you hurt?" Amelia asked as Ken sat up slowly, rubbing his left shoulder. Ken smiled, wincing slightly at the motion.  
  
"Nah, it's nothing. That's all for today, though. Get home before your parents start wondering where you are."  
  
Amidst gradually fading cries of disappointment, Ken gathered his things and set off for home, still rubbing absently at his shoulder. //I should put some ice on it,// Ken thought to himself. //Maybe while I watch that DVD I rented - what was it called again? Pokemon?// Twilight settled about him as he wandered through the streets, his mind occupied with one question only. //I wonder if Aya'll watch with me.//  
  
*********************  
  
When Ken got home that evening, he found Omi busily doing his homework and Aya still doing the accounting. Sighing contentedly, he made his way upstairs to the shower, reveling in the all-is-right-with-the-world feeling that filled him whenever they spent the evening without a mission or a 'family argument', as Omi called their little spats. His shoulder still twinged uncomfortably and the warm water wasn't helping, so Ken dressed and situated himself on the couch with an ice pack, a microwave dinner, and the Pokemon DVD one of his pupils had recommended. He thought it might be a bit immature, but hey - as long as it was funny, he'd roll with it.  
  
15 minutes into the DVD, Ken felt a soft touch on his arm. He looked up into the warm eyes of his favorite redhead, whose lovely face was lit by the television screen in an almost ethereal manner. Aya sat down next to the preoccupied brunette and, after observing the screen for several minutes in confusion, asked what they were watching.  
  
"Pokemon," Ken replied with a shrug that made him grimace. "Gourry- chan suggested it."  
  
The name meant nothing to Aya, but he noticed the grimace and brushed his fingers over Ken's injured shoulder. Ken tensed, then forced himself to relax. "Did you hurt yourself?" his leader asked.  
  
Ken nodded lightly. "I guess. I did a scissor-kick today - I landed wrong." He eased himself closer to Aya, faking discomfort with his sitting position. He sighed. //In a perfect world, he'd offer to-//  
  
"Would a massage help?" came Aya's soft voice out of the darkness. Ken whipped around to face his teammate, countenance flushed. His first irrational thought was, //Oh my gosh, he read my mind.// The second, slightly more coherent one came a moment later: //He's waiting for an answer, you idiot!// Slowly, trying to control his blush, Ken nodded.  
  
Aya pulled Ken in front of him, resting the brunette against his elevated knee. Ken stiffened, and Aya raised an eyebrow. "Calm down, Ken," he murmured, running his fingers across his comrade's injury. Ken kept quiet, but his mind screamed, //CALM?! Like -hell- I'm calming down! I'm practically sitting in your lap!// Not that he was complaining or anything. Aya's fingers soothed the injured muscles as they worked back and forth, back and forth. . . Ken felt his eyes slipping shut. //He should do this more often,// Ken mused. //I could fall asleep to this. . . // Ken found himself markedly losing interest in the Anime he was watching.  
  
Aya, by contrast, quickly became engrossed in the Anime Ken had rented. It's true that it was aimed primarily for children, but something about it amused him to no end. He was especially touched by the yellow-and- black creature that zipped about - the companionship between this Pokemon and its trainer almost moved him to tears. Add to this the fact that he was giving Ken a massage and you can understand just how happy Aya was. (A/N: Aya? Happy?) //I can't believe I've been missing so much,// Aya thought to himself as he chuckled at the characters' antics.  
  
He felt a pressure against his chest and looked down, surprised. Ken had fallen back into his lap, head against Aya's shoulder, eyes closed in blissful peace - he was obviously asleep. Aya looked at Ken. He looked at the television. He knew he ought to turn it off and go to bed - his own exhaustion was swiftly catching up with him - but the show was just too entertaining. Leaning back against the couch, he settled Ken more securely against his chest and continued watching the DVD.  
  
When Omi descended the stairs about midnight, intent on procuring a cup of coffee, it was to find Aya and Ken asleep on the couch, leaned adorably against each other, the TV dancing with static. He turned the DVD- player off and studied his companions thoughtfully, then shook his head. //Ken sleeping in Aya's lap? It must have been an accident,// he decided. Then he giggled and snatched the camera from the kitchen counter. He snapped a picture of his sleeping friends, then draped them in a blanket and made his way into the kitchen.  
  
While he was waiting for the water to boil, he heard a noise in the entryway and peered curiously around the corner. To his complete surprise, Yohji stumbled into the room, obviously wasted. The lanky assassin had a ridiculous grin plastered on his face, and he staggered dramatically into several chairs and a side-table before Omi managed to catch him around the middle and drag him into the next room. Yohji grinned derangedly at his suspicious boyfriend.  
  
"Omi!" he said loudly, prompting a fervent 'shh!' from his lover. "Wat're yu st'll doin' up, Om't'chi?"  
  
Omi gave him an energetic frown. "Homework, to start with. And I was waiting up for you, Yohji-koi." Yohji gave him a drunken smile.  
  
"Aww. . . you di'n' hav' to do tha'at!" he slurred, ruffling Omi's hair a tad too heartily.  
  
"Itai!" Omi yelped, rubbing his scalp indignantly. "Yohji-koi! Where've you been, anyway?"  
  
Yohji shrugged. "Couldn' tell ya. Don' rem'm'er."  
  
Omi frowned severely. "Yohji-koi - you know Aya-kun said you're not to buy alcohol for two weeks!"  
  
Yohji giggled in a very un-Yohji-like manner. "Oh, -I- d'dn' buy it, Om't'chi. Gre't guy rilly, boug't me a dri'k 'n all. . . "  
  
Omi sighed and dragged Yohji up the stairs. "Come on, Yohji-koi, let's get you to bed." Yohji giggled again and trapped Omi against the wall. Omi squealed.  
  
"O'k, as long as yu cum w'the me, Om't'chi!" Yohji cooed, dragging a protesting Omi up the stairwell despite his pleas for release. On the living room couch, Aya shifted and fell against the headrest - Ken followed him. The blanket settled over them once more, and they slept peacefully.  
  
End Day 3  
  
_______________________________________________________________________  
  
Omi's being a bit trigger-happy, isn't he? Ah well - I'll bet he could really embarrass his teammates with those pictures if he tried.  
  
Omi: Hi, fangirls, look at these pictures I took.  
  
Fangirls: Eek! Aw, KAWAII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Aya/ Ken: No, wait, you don't understand - that was -  
  
Fangirls: Get 'em!  
  
Yohji: Run for your lives!  
  
Omi: Muahahaha!  
  
Anyway, R + R please! It never fails to put a smile on my face! ^-* 


	4. Day 4: Smiling Pancakes and Dealings wit...

Disclaimers/ warnings: What do you think would happen if I left this note off? Do you think they'd really sue me? What on earth would they take? My posters? My college fund? My family? Who knows. I don't really want to find out. I don't own the characters. . .   
  
A note to CherubKatan-san: Yes, I know I used the Slayers names for Ken's soccer kids. It was intentional, actually. I've been using a crossover in every chapter - that one was a rather weak attempt, I'll admit, but I'm not quite stupid enough to need to rip off the Slayers names (though I did need to steal their characters. . . hm. . . ). Anyway, hope that answers your question!  
  
A/N: All righty - things get a little bit fluffier from here on out (is that even POSSIBLE?). I think, anyway. I can't really recall. All I really know is that my kitty ran away. Yeah, that's the second one. I don't have a clue why they do it. But I miss her a lot. I'm gonna try not to weave any kitty-angst into this story, though. I want my Neko-chan back! WAH!  
  
Yohji: Do shut up.  
  
Hidoi Yohji-kun! Haven't you ever lost a pet?  
  
Yohji: Not unless you count all those endless women. . .  
  
Yohji! Really! How cruel. We'd better get on with this so I can sock him.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ ________  
  
Daylight broke sweetly over the Tokyo suburbs, shining lightly through the curtains and draperies, alerting the birds to their daily serenade, rustling through the leafy treetops and casting vibrant shadows on the still-slumbering ground. A lonely sunbeam worked its way between the blinds of a silent apartment, alighting delicately on the peaceful, sleeping countenance of a crimson-crowned young man. The light urged movement, and he shifted uncomfortably, causing his companion to groan and twist about, attempting to reposition himself in the other's arms.  
  
All of a sudden, Aya couldn't breathe. His supply of oxygen was completely cut off by the offending arm of his unknowing, lightly snoring companion. Survival instincts kicked in, and Aya began thrashing madly - he woke with a start and threw Ken's arm off his face, desperate for air. Ken yelped as he tumbled from the couch in a flurry of limbs and blankets and landed on the floor, blinking in shock.  
  
Aya, alone on the couch, gazed in surprise at the brunette now sprawled on the tasteful green carpet. Ken returned the stare, rubbing painfully at his head, which had conveniently connected with the slightly- out-of-place side table when he landed. The two men looked at each other, both no doubt wondering why they weren't in their respective beds. Then they blushed, having simultaneously realized that not only did they wake up on the couch, but that they woke up -together-. After trying to avoid meeting Aya's gaze for a few minutes, Ken got up and tentatively sat next to the redhead on the couch. Aya made room for him, still avoiding eye contact.  
  
Then Aya jolted, as he suddenly remembered Ken's injury from the day before. As if reading his mind, Ken made a low sound of pain and experimented with moving his shoulder. Aya's hand came up to rest beside Ken's neck, once more soothing the offending muscles. Ken let him continue the massage for a few minutes - okay, maybe twenty - then smiled gently at his leader and rose from the couch, pulling Aya with him. Once they were both standing, he asked, "Want some breakfast?"  
  
Aya held up a hand in protest. "I'll cook. You did it last time."  
  
Ken pouted lightly. "I thought you liked it!"  
  
"I did," Aya countered, shaking his head, "but cooking is hard work. You shouldn't have to do so more than once a week." Ken rolled his eyes. Finally allowing a small smile to creep across his face, Aya added, "Besides, I'd bet -you- don't know how to make smiley face pancakes."  
  
Ken blinked, then flushed slightly. "Well, no. . . " he admitted. Then, furrowing his brow, he asked, "Can you?"  
  
Aya nodded. "Yohji taught me." Ken had to laugh at this. The thought of Yohji standing in the kitchen, cooking BREAKFAST, the earliest meal of the day, and instructing an avidly interested Aya in the proper pancake-making technique was pretty much the craziest thing he'd ever imagined. He visualized Omi swinging his legs while sitting on the counter, an oversized chef's hat falling over his eyes; he pictured the boy clapping excitedly every time Yohji flipped one of the golden-brown disks into the air. Aya raised an eyebrow at Ken's prolonged laughter, but the sound pleased him, and he made his way into the kitchen. Ken followed him and leaned self-consciously against the counter while Aya engaged in a full- scale cookout. After each of them had made a few half-hearted attempts at conversation (the longest of which centered around reviewing the Pokemon DVD), Ken decided painkillers might be a good idea and began rummaging through the medicine cabinet. He found three empty bottles of Advil, but that was all his efforts yielded. Aya beckoned him to breakfast and he let it go, but the mystery of the missing painkillers stayed with him.  
  
Omi came into the eating area just as Aya and Ken were finishing up, dark circles under his eyes. He took the plate Aya offered him and sat down heavily at the table, slowly applying the food to his mouth and hardly noticing Aya's edible imagery. Aya gave Omi a semi-curious look. "Up late?" he asked the resident chibi, who managed to blush despite his exhaustion. Aya left it at that and finished his own breakfast.  
  
Suddenly Ken paused, fork halfway to his mouth. He eyed Omi inquiringly, then asked, "Hey Omi - d'you know where all the Advil went? I hurt my shoulder yesterday, but there are just empty bottles in there. . . "  
  
Omi shook his head wearily. "I'm sorry, Ken-kun, I don't have any idea what. . . " he trailed off, eyes darkening in what might have been anger. Then his face went pale and he sat up straight, clearly thunderstruck. "Wait a minute - Yohji did come home drunk last night. . . maybe he had a hangover this morning."  
  
Ken's eyes bulged, and Aya gave Omi a sharp look. "He took three bottles of Advil?" Ken exclaimed in disbelief. "He's gonna kill himself!"  
  
"What business does Kudou have with a hangover?" Aya asked vehemently, but Omi didn't hear him. The poor blonde boy had fallen asleep and face-faulted into his breakfast. Aya and Ken watched his peacefully sleeping form, then looked at each other.  
  
"Let him sleep," Ken advised sympathetically. "Poor kid's worn out." Aya nodded, and the two of them headed off to prepare for the day.  
  
**********************  
  
Yohji whistled happily as he attended to the fangirls, a lovely smile on his face. He was manning the shop, and the daily horde, by himself at the moment, but he didn't mind. Omi was supposed to join him for the morning shift that day; no doubt his young lover was exhausted. Yohji shook his head mildly - end of term papers can do that to people. (A/N: Hentais! What did you -think- Omi was doing up?)  
  
After he'd come home late, Yohji remembered Omi sitting with him and listening to his drunken babbling. He couldn't remember what all he'd said, but he knew he'd kept it a secret that he'd found a new drinking buddy in Schwartz's Farfello. The last thing he needed was Aya Shi-Ne-ing him for breaking the drinking rules AND getting chummy with the enemy.  
  
The door from the apartment opened to admit Aya, Ken, and Omi - Omi was diligently rubbing egg off his face. The redhead stalked over to where Yohji was standing and gave the blonde his most powerful glare. If Yohji hadn't had Advil practically rivaling the blood content in his body, he figured he might have died. As it was, Aya's severe glare just made him grin like a maniac.  
  
"What," Aya growled, "were you doing drunk last night?" Yohji assumed his most innocent expression.  
  
"Why Aya - whatever do you mean?" he asked, batting his eyelashes at his leader. Aya twitched.  
  
"The deal," he spit out. Yohji gave him a smug look, then dropped a casual arm around the other man's shoulder.  
  
"But Aya - you said I couldn't -buy- alcohol, not that I couldn't -consume- it. Besides, it was his idea."  
  
"Whose idea?" Aya asked sharply.  
  
"Fa-" Yohji caught himself just in time. "Father!" he finished joyfully. Aya gave him a deadly look.  
  
"Your parents are already dead, Kudou," he replied testily.  
  
//Drat,// Yohji thought. Then an idea came to him. He looked back to Aya and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Not -my- father - Our Father!" Aya gave him a look of pure skepticism.  
  
"God bought you a drink?" he intoned dryly, crossing his arms in front of him. Yohji nodded decisively. "And what exactly did you do to deserve -that-?"  
  
Yohji shrugged, then turned away. Aya gave him another warning look and stalked off, grumbling. Yohji winced. Farfello better never find out he'd been passed off as God. On the other hand, the Irishman might enjoy that.  
  
Omi meandered his broom over to Yohji's side, still wiping tiredly at his eyes. Yohji gave the poor boy a kiss on the forehead and continued ringing up customers (all of the fangirls had left by this point, and the few people who saw it either assumed the two were brothers or smiled at how cute the flower boys were being today). Despite the kiss, Omi managed to give his boyfriend a suspicious look, then asked nonchalantly, "Who -really- bought you a drink, Yohji-ko - er, Yohji-kun?"  
  
Yohji chuckled. "That's a secret, Omittchi," he said happily. Omi frowned, then sighed in submission. He quickly perked up again, though, and got an adorable gleam in his eye.  
  
"Ne, Yohji-kun, we had the morning shift today, but I slept through it. Can I - will you come to lunch with me today, so I can make it up to you?"  
  
"Can't Omittchi," Yohji joked with a wink. "I've got a date."  
  
Omi froze, rooted to the spot. A date? Yohji had a -date-? They'd only been together for four days - Yohji was cheating on him ALREADY?!?! Omi drew himself up angrily, then exploded. "What do you MEAN you have a DATE?!" he yelled, voice rising several octaves in his rage. Yohji winced, then put his hands on Omi's shoulders in an attempt to placate the younger man.  
  
"Look Omi, that's not what I meant, I-"  
  
"I - I can't -believe- you!" Omi shrieked, smacking Yohji across the face as he did so. He ran from the room, dropping the broom on Yohji's toe. Yohji yelped. Safely across the shop, Ken shook his head.  
  
"Hell hath no fury like an Omi scorned."  
  
***************************  
  
All was quiet in the Koneko. Aya worked on the arrangements. Ken was out with the deliveries. Yohji was playing with the cash register. Omi still hadn't returned. Suddenly. . . the clock struck one. Yohji looked up. Then a brilliant smile lit his face and he tossed his apron in a heap on the floor, chuckling lightly to himself. He snatched his jacket from the counter and ducked out of the shop, whistling as he went.  
  
As he passed by the alleyway, a dark shadow crept out behind him. It wore a blue jacket, shorts, a white sunhat [1], and bright, suspicious eyes that gleamed from underneath the hat's brim.  
  
Omi trailed stealthily behind his wayward koi, using all his assassin skills to avoid detection. Fortunately, nothing was further from Yohji's mind than his own personal stalker, so Omi's presence went unnoticed. Omi mumbled to himself unhappily. When Yohji had confessed his undying love less than a week ago, Omi had been inclined to take him at face value - apparently, that was a bad idea. He followed Yohji down the city sidewalks - past the restaurants and the bars and the clubs - down past old men and businesspeople and schoolchildren until finally Yohji entered a dingy establishment that appeared to be a tavern of some sort.  
  
Omi followed Yohji inside and seated himself at a strategically placed table near the back, watching through nervous eyes as Yohji passed all the half-dressed women and sat alone at a large circular table in the center. The elder blonde glanced around as though searching for someone, then resigned himself to waiting and slumped back in his chair. The door swung open and Yohji started up, a smile on his face, his hand raised in greeting.  
  
Omi watched in surprise as the arrivals, both men, sat at Yohji's table. One was quite short with grayish-brown hair, and the other - the other was that Irish psycho! Absolutely enraged, Omi hurtled across the room to Yohji's side, face scarlet with fury. "You're leaving me for -SCHWARTZ-?!" he demanded loudly, decidedly livid. Yohji looked up in shock.  
  
"O - Omi?" he said in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" He glanced at Farfello and Nagi, then back at Omi; suddenly realizing what Omi was so mad about, he laughed loudly and tugged his boyfriend into his lap, much to the surprise of said boyfriend.  
  
"Oh, Omittchi - you thought I was serious about the date thing, didn't you? Baka! Look, I met Farfello accidentally yesterday, and he offered to buy me a drink - he said I was such an amusing drunk that if I came here today, he'd buy again." He looked questioningly at the Schwartz members before adding, "I don't know why Nagi's here, though."  
  
Farfello laughed gleefully. "Because he can't drink! Crawford said so. And if he has to sit here and watch us, it makes God cry at the sheer unfairness of it all." Nagi pouted - then he remembered Omi and his pretty eyes lit up. "Hey - Omi can't drink either! Now I have a friend!" Omi blinked at the younger boy, then looked questioningly at Yohji.  
  
"Yohji-koi," he inquired anxiously, "are you sure it's okay to be meeting with Schwartz like this?"  
  
Yohji gave him a sympathetic look. "I don't know, Omi - I don't know why we should have to be enemies anymore. Takatori's dead - Farfello told me Schwartz is kind of outta work right now. Why can't we be friends?"  
  
Omi thought on this a moment, then shook his head and sat next to Nagi, warning darkly, "If Aya-kun finds out about this, we'll be dead meat."  
  
******************  
  
Ken sighed as he stood on the sidewalk outside the Koneko, watching the sunset-painted sky become brilliant shades of pink and gold. It was closing time, but Yohji and Omi had yet to reappear - Ken assumed they'd gone out to dinner or something. Hopefully, they had sorted out whatever argument had caused Omi to hit his lover in the shop today - if the two broke up so soon, Ken wasn't sure he'd be able to handle it.  
  
"Beautiful evening, isn't it?" asked a rich voice at his shoulder. Ken jumped. Aya smiled, then turned to observe the sky himself. After a moment of comfortable silence, both he and Ken spoke simultaneously.  
  
"Would you-" Each broke off, embarrassed.  
  
"You first," Aya said graciously. Ken opened his mouth to protest, then closed it and nodded instead.  
  
"Would you - um - like to go for a walk, maybe?" Ken suggested awkwardly, trying to sound convinced that this was what he wanted, too. Aya shot him a covert glance. //A walk in the sunset?// Aya meditated silently. //That was -my- idea. Did Ken suddenly become a telepath or something?// Instead of asking, he nodded silently to Ken, whose face brightened perceptively. Aya turned momentarily to lock the shop door, then the two companions started off down the street.  
  
As they moved into the open air of the town park, Aya reached down and discreetly caught Ken's fingers in his. Ken's face turned the color of the evening sky, but he didn't pull away, focusing on admiring the sunset instead. //He's holding my hand?// Ken wondered. //What's gotten into Aya these days?//  
  
//If I didn't know any better,// Aya reasoned, //I'd think maybe he was trying to - that maybe he wanted-// Aya broke off his thoughts and shook his head.  
  
//Nah,// they agreed mentally. //Not a chance.// They continued silently onward, nodding occasionally to the few passerby. One pair, a boy about Ken's age and his companion, caught their attention, mostly because said companion was wearing an outfit that only covered a very small portion of his chest. Also, his haphazard hairstyle almost took out Ken's left eye.  
  
"Jane, Jane, Jane of the Jungle, strong as he can be [2]," Ken muttered bitterly once the other pair, who wore signs declaring 'Getbackers!' around their necks, had passed out of earshot. Aya chuckled. Just then, the two heard voices coming from a park bench ahead of them - voices that were somehow vaguely familiar.  
  
"I'm just not ready for that kind of commitment," came a deep voice with a strong American accent.  
  
"What kind of commitment?" answered a nasal German tone. Aya and Ken stopped dead. It was Schwartz! Well, Crawford and Schuldich, anyway. The two villains, however, were so wrapped up in their conversation that they failed to notice their waiting adversaries.  
  
Brad Crawford shot Schuldich a look. "What kind of commitment? I don't suppose you recall coming home last night from your shopping trip with Nagi, jumping into my lap, knocking the paper out of my hands, throwing your arms around my neck and crying, 'Oh Bradley, promise me we'll be together forever'?"  
  
Schuldich gave him a cheesy grin. "'Course I do. But who said anything about commitment?"  
  
Brad blinked at him. "Schuldich you propositioned me." He held up a glinting diamond ring.  
  
"And?" his carrot-top comrade responded.  
  
"And we're not even dating! How could you -propose- to me?"  
  
Schuldich gave him a chiding yet sympathetic look. "Well Bradley, first I got down on one knee-"  
  
"That is -not- what I meant, Schuldich," Crawford said severely. Schuldich adopted a pout; his eyes filled with tears, and he began to tremble.  
  
"Oh Bradley, you're not -rejecting- me, are you?" he asked, voice wavering. Without warning, he burst into tears and began to sob onto Crawford's shoulder, loud cries emanating from his throat. Crawford looked completely shocked, which is hard for a precog, and tried to appease his distraught teammate.  
  
"Schu, that's not what I meant, I was just-" At that moment, Ken coughed loudly, becoming decidedly uncomfortable with the situation. Both members of Schwartz looked up - they then exhibited very different reactions.  
  
Crawford started up from the bench and immediately positioned himself opposite Aya, countenance twisted in a snarl. Schuldich, by contrast, let out an exuberant cry and grabbed Ken in a crushing hug. Aya and Crawford both froze, eyeing their respective teammates in surprise.  
  
"Kenken!" Schuldich squealed, much to Ken's annoyance. "Oh, I haven't seen you for -ages-!" Aya snatched Ken away and glared at the German menacingly. Schuldich pouted again, and Crawford grabbed his arm.  
  
"Schuldich, what are you doing? That's Weiss!" Schuldich rolled his eyes.  
  
"Of course it's -Weiss-, Bradley. They delivered your flowers last week!" He grabbed Ken's hand and began jerking it up and down excitedly [3]. "Ooh, I'm so happy to see the two of you - together," he added with a wink in Ken's direction. Ken blushed again. Schuldich laughed heartily, then continued, "I've been meaning to send you a thank-you card, ja, but I just haven't had time, what with business, and the party, and mein leibe here-"  
  
"I am -not- your-"  
  
"Oh, hush Bradley," Schuldich interrupted merrily. "If you're not now, you will be." Crawford paled perceptively. Aya, nonplussed, sent another glare in Schuldich's direction.  
  
"A thank you card won't be necessary," he spat out. "It's part of the job."  
  
Schuldich gave him a radiant smile. "Oh, I know - besides, I have a different idea now. I'm inviting you both to Abendessen tomorrow."  
  
"Schuldich!" Crawford reproached severely.  
  
"What's Abendessen?" Ken asked.  
  
"We're not coming," Aya hissed. Ken gave him an indignant look.  
  
"Aya! You can't just blow people off like that!" He turned solemnly to Schuldich. "I'm sorry, he's very rude sometimes." Aya flushed, glaring down at the pavement. "Now - what's this. . . thing. . . you're inviting us to tomorrow?"  
  
"Abendessen!" Schuldich exclaimed gleefully.  
  
"He means dinner," Crawford said, rubbing his aching head.  
  
"Oh," Ken replied, feeling sheepish. "Sure, we'll be there - wherever it is."  
  
"That Italian restaurant near our place - 6 o'clock. Mind that you're not late," Schuldich reprimanded cheerfully.  
  
"All right, well - goodbye then."  
  
"Auf weidersehen!" Schuldich yelled as his very annoyed leader dragged him off. Ken turned to Aya, who was giving him an incredulous look.  
  
"I can't believe you accepted," Aya finally spat out. "They're -Schwartz-."  
  
Ken gave him a look. "Aya - everything isn't always black and white [4]. They're enemies sometimes - they don't always have to be. Think about it; we haven't confronted them for months! Can't we - I don't know - try to make amends?" Aya shifted uncomfortably, then started back home without answering. Ken sighed and followed the redhead. Then a thought struck him, and he paused.  
  
"Hey Aya?"  
  
Aya stopped.  
  
"You'll come with me. . . right?"  
  
Aya looked at him skeptically. Ken glanced away, refusing to meet his eyes.  
  
"I'd be. . . uncomfortable. . . going alone," he said softly. Aya gave him a hard look, then sighed and walked back to where his friend stood, catching the brunette's gaze. He pulled Ken into his arms and rested his chin against the shorter man's shoulder, fighting a blush with all his might.  
  
"I'll come with you."  
  
Ken breathed out in relief and let Aya hold him for a few more moments - then they broke apart, shy, nervous, and made their way home, each thinking of the comfort in the other's arms.  
  
End Day 4  
  
_______________________________________________________________________  
  
[1] - Has everybody seen that picture? Where they're all dressed in white against a white wall-like thing? And he has that ridiculous hat? That's the one I meant.  
  
[2] - I'm referring to Ban's outfit at the end of the first disk here - that little one-strap thing that can't even count as clothing? Yeah. The song is something one of my friends came up with. She sings it every time he comes on-screen dressed like that. Oh, and these two were from the series 'Getbackers', in case you didn't know.  
  
[3] - I have a friend who does this all the time. I modeled Schuldich after her.  
  
[4] - Get it? Weiss = White, Schwartz = Black? That's what the German dictionary said, anyway. I thought it was neat.  
  
Okay. . . man is it ever late. Well, only three more days to go - and now we're having a Schwartz dinner party?! I don't believe it! Will it be an innocent, boring, predictable little affair? I certainly hope not! R + R please! 


	5. Day 5: Devious fangirls and the spaghett...

Disclaimer/ Warnings: Back up front. Schuldich's guarding them for me.  
  
A/N: Sorry this chapter has been a long time coming. School started and for some insane reason, they tend to think that the homework they assign is more vital than my getting the fifth chapter up. So it's going to be an uphill struggle - hopefully I can finish this quickly so nobody has to wait anymore. ANYWAY - day 5. Here we go.  
  
***********************  
  
When Ken and Aya woke up the next morning (separately, of course), they both decided it was time to get serious about their challenges. They'd been fumbling about for the last couple days, and although limited progress had been made, they were definitely running out of time. Ken sat up and established a firm new resolution: he was going to stop blushing. It made him seem all shy (which he was) and uninterested (which he wasn't), so he resolved to stop it.  
  
Unfortunately, Aya, deciding he needed something to inspire himself to be serious about seducing Ken, came up with a game that morning. It was called the Touch-Ken game. While the name was certainly not very creative, the game itself was a lot of fun. The objective was to make contact with Ken - discreetly and accidentally-on-purpose, certainly - as many times as possible. The secret motivation for this? Aya thought Ken was cute when he blushed. He was sure the game would work.  
  
Aya entered the shop - immediately, his eyes sought out Ken, who was diligently watering the flowers. Aya smiled slightly. Ken had been working awfully hard these last few days. It made Aya get all bubbly inside and have all these 'ah-if-only' thoughts. Ken was working and making money. Ken and money - two of the things Aya loved most in the whole world - side by side. If only Aya-chan were added to the picture, Aya could die happy. Wait - Aya didn't want to die yet. He still had to beat that smirk off of Yohji's grinning countenance. He shook himself back to the real world and proceeded to his companion's side, studying Ken's expression and activity and waiting for the best time to put his plan into action.  
  
Finally, Ken looked up at his leader, no doubt wondering why Aya - AYA, of all people - was watching him water the flowers. He managed to keep from blushing when he noticed how intently Aya was staring at him, and pulled himself up resolutely. "If you're just going to stand there, you can water the flowers and I'll find something else to do," Ken said, trying to sound firm and decisive. Aya said nothing, but he reached out a hand to take the hose. Ken passed it to him, and their hands brushed momentarily. Ken pulled back, stunned, but he managed to keep a pale face. Aya frowned slightly. Apparently, he'd have to be a little more direct to tease a blush from his companion.  
  
The game continued through the early morning throng of fangirls, through the quiet hours of the midmorning, through the arrival of Yohji (who didn't notice), until finally Ken decided Aya had touched him a bit too often for it to be an accident anymore. Confused and frustrated, he made a point of catching Aya's own hand at his next opportunity. To his surprise, Aya merely smiled and pulled away, mentally tallying up the score. Aya: 16. Ken: 1. It was fairly clear who was winning. But Aya still hadn't managed to make Ken blush, and it upset him a good deal. That was the point after all, right?  
  
Ken, for his part, was trying extremely hard to keep his impromptu resolution. He had no idea what Aya was up to, but the constant physical contact was driving him crazy. Shaking his head, he suppressed his ludicrous thoughts and headed to the counter just in time for the fangirl lunch-rush. Apparently, none of them had bought enough flowers that morning, and needed more by the time their lunch break rolled around. Ken pounded the cash register in annoyance. Who did they give all these flowers to, anyway?  
  
"Ken-san! Ken-san! I need a bouquet of -those-!" one girl cried. Ken looked to where she'd pointed and sighed, leaving the relative safety of his counter behind. As he moved into the crowd, they pressed forward eagerly until they were overwhelming. Ken felt himself backing away, desperate for freedom. Then fangirlism threatened to become an international crime as, all of a sudden, they pounced. They came for him with sacks and rope and various other means of restraint, squealing shrilly. Ken jumped back in alarm, but soon they were grabbing at his arms and hands and pulling him ever toward his black doom.  
  
Without warning, he was wrenched firmly away from the overzealous girls by a strong pair of pale arms, which wrapped themselves around his waist and huddled him against a tall, orange-clad frame. The girls drew back in surprise. Aya gave all of them his best 'drop-dead-Takatori-filth' glare and pulled Ken farther away from the grasping abductors. "Out," he growled. "Get out." Ken was shocked - Aya hadn't even included his customary alternative today. The girls muttered and moaned and protested, but at the decidedly frightening expression on Aya's pale face, they left the store one by one. Aya squeezed the lovable brunette and rested his cheek against the shorter man's hair, watching the fangirls file moodily out the door. His Ken! They'd tried to steal his Ken away! Well he had news for those fangirls. If they ever tried something like that again, he was going to string them all up in the basement and use them for kendo practice. Oh yes. And he'd be taking his katana out of the sheath when he did it, too. Aya's vicious thoughts were broken as Ken sighed in relief, alerting him to the fact that all the girls had finally gone. Despite the lack of apparent danger, Aya still neglected to let Ken out of his grip.  
  
//Dammit, he's touching me again,// Ken thought frantically. //What do I do? I don't really want him to -let go-, but if I stay here it'll look suspicious!// As he thought this, Aya began to withdraw his arms. //Ack!// Ken's mind cried. Thinking quickly, he threw his arms around Aya's waist and sniffled convincingly several times. Aya stopped, then put his arms back around the apparently distraught brunette. "Ken?" he asked quietly. "Are you. . . all right?"  
  
Ken sniffled once more and snuggled into the ugly sweater, which, despite clashing terribly with the redhead's image, was very soft and warm. "They tried to kidnap me!" he cried passionately. "You saved me Aya! Who knows what those evil fangirls would've done to me!"  
  
Aya blinked and patted Ken's back awkwardly, doing his best to coo soothingly while glaring at the fangirls who peered sadly through the front windows. Omi, coming to stand beside his teammates, looked questioningly at the redhead and asked, "Ne, what's wrong with Ken-kun, Aya-kun? Why are you holding him like that?"  
  
//Because I love him with all my heart and soul, and just holding him is the greatest pleasure I've ever experienced,// Aya thought to himself, glad Omi wasn't a telepath like that Schwartz freak. "He's been traumatized, Omi," he answered aloud, deciding to keep his syrupy thoughts to himself. "He'll be fine in a minute." Omi gave the devious fangirls a pouting, unhappy look and headed back into the storage closet. Yohji watched Ken worriedly, then suddenly realized that Aya and Ken were still locked in a tender embrace. No way was he going down as simple as that! With a small frown, he called, "Oi, Aya - let go of Ken and help me with these arrangements." Aya gave Yohji a scowl, but he dropped his arms from around Ken's form and followed the blonde to the arrangement counter. //Damn you, making me get back to work,// Aya thought vehemently, glaring potently at the back of Yohji's head. //Couldn't you see I was busy in Heaven?//  
  
Once the redhead caught up with him, Yohji whispered, "You're not gonna beat me -that- easily, Fujimiya." Aya gave him an odd look.  
  
"I didn't start that - Ken did. He was distressed." Yohji paled considerably.  
  
"Ken?" he asked, voice deeply concerned. "-Ken- started that?" Aya nodded shortly. Yohji pulled back, stunned. //Is it possible he hasn't even noticed-// He shook his head and decided to help his comrade out. "Shy little Kenken? The one who's been tripping over his feet and dropping things whenever you're around?" Aya nodded, then paused.  
  
"Now that you mention it - that is a bit odd," Aya said, brow furrowed. He watched Ken watering the flowers again and continued, "Perhaps he's developing a split-personality disorder?"  
  
Yohji stared, then groaned loudly. //He doesn't have a clue how Ken feels!// he thought, exasperated. All of a sudden, the sheer stupidity of it all was too much for him, and he stormed out of the shop, yelling, "I can't take it anymore! You're all so dense, it's driving me crazy!" Aya watched him leave, then went back to making the arrangements as Ken wandered over to his leader under the guise of watering thirsty Morning Glories, moving perhaps a tad closer than necessary for normal conversation.  
  
"What's he so upset about? -He's- not the one that got accosted!"  
  
Aya shook his head wistfully. "Maybe it's withdrawal." They watched silently as Yohji threw himself valiantly in front of cars for several hours, occasionally screaming things like, 'Please, somebody! Take me away from this dimwitted insanity!' - obviously, he was severely annoyed. All of the cars missed him, but it did relieve his frustration, and he returned in a much better temper.  
  
"Man, do I feel better!" Yohji mused aloud. He then shoved Ken into Aya and laughed loudly amidst his teammates' cries. "They're both so oblivious," he muttered amiably. "Maybe I can win after all!"  
  
***********************  
  
"Please?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Pretty please?"  
  
"No."  
  
"We never get to do anything -I- want to do!"  
  
Farfello rolled his one good eye. "That's because if -you- got your way, it would make God smile."  
  
Nagi folded his arms crossly in front of him. "We've been over this, Farf - I'm not as innocent as you seem to think. I'm paid to kill, remember? You told me I have devil-powers! How can I make God smile?"  
  
Farfello paused and looked Nagi up and down. "You're cute," he replied simply.  
  
Nagi choked. "I'm -what-? I'm not cute! I'm short, and dangerous, and evil, and. . . and lots of other things! But I'm NOT CUTE! That stupid Weiss kid is cute! Those huge blue eyes, and golden hair, and chubby face - that's what you call 'cute', Farf. I'm -not- cute. I'm just. . . just. . . just small, that's all."  
  
Farfello shrugged. "I think you're cute." Nagi blushed brightly. Farfello leered at him, then laughed and rumpled the boy's hair. Nagi gave him a pout.  
  
"Why can't you just kiss me like a normal person?" Farfello grinned.  
  
"It hurts God."  
  
Nagi sighed. "Can we just go in the toy store now?" Farfello laughed and followed his koi into the store, chanting 'It hurts God, it hurts God' over and over again.  
  
**********************  
  
"Aya?" Ken called, coming to the bottom of the stairs and busily buttoning his shirt. "Aya, are you ready to go?"  
  
Silence was his only answer. Curious, Ken wandered up the stairway, shaking silvery water droplets from his freshly washed hair. He peered into the various apartments of his companions, but Aya was nowhere to be found. Finally, he spotted the redhead in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. He was gripping a coffee cup firmly in one hand and had a determined expression on his face. And, Ken noticed, despite being gorgeous as usual, he was nowhere near ready to go. Ken sighed.  
  
"Aya?" he said again, more softly this time. Aya grunted. "Are you ready?" Another grunt. "We need to leave in ten minutes."  
  
Aya looked cross. "I'm not going," he announced defiantly, sounding slightly childish. Ken's eyes widened.  
  
"What? But you promised!" Aya grumbled, avoiding Ken's pleading look.  
  
"I changed my mind." Ken's eyes began to waver.  
  
"But - but Aya. . . you're gonna make me go all by myself?" Aya twitched uncomfortably.  
  
"You don't have to go," the leader mumbled. "It's just Schwartz."  
  
"But I promised I would!" Ken wailed. "I can't ignore that! Can't you just - I don't know - pretend you're eating with me?"  
  
Aya froze. //Aw dammit,// Aya thought unhappily. //Now I -have- to go along, or it'll seem like I don't value his company.// Aya gritted his teeth. //No - be strong. Just propose an alternate activity. There's no reason this has to be the only was you spend time together. Don't fall for the - oh damn.// All his resolve disappeared at the sight of the wounded puppy-dog look Ken was giving him. Aya sighed, defeated.  
  
"All right, all right - I'll go," he muttered darkly. His scowl vanished, however, when he saw the way Ken's face lit up and his beautiful eyes began to sparkle. //I wish I could make him look that ecstatic more often,// Aya thought fleetingly before he was tugged out the door by his energetic dinner date. Omi shook his head as he watched a reluctant Aya being forcefully maneuvered down the street by the bouncing, brown-haired Ken. Turning away from Yohji's bedroom window, he smiled at his lover and said,  
  
"They make a cute couple, ne, Yohji-koi?" Yohji grumbled unintelligibly at Omi's comment. "Maybe they really will get together. . . " Omi observed wistfully. Yohji frowned at him.  
  
"Hey, whose side are you on, Omittchi?" Omi giggled. He jumped into Yohji's lap and wrapped his arms around the older blonde's waist.  
  
"Oh, Yohji-koi - stop being so silly. I just want everyone to be happy, that's all. I mean, I have you, but Aya-kun and Ken-kun - they're still all alone. They're so kawaii together, Yohji-koi, and they make each other smile. . . wouldn't that be worth it, Yohji-koi? If Aya-kun was happy and smiled more often?"  
  
Yohji sighed, but he smiled slightly and pecked Omi on the cheek. "Yeah - yeah, that'd be worth it." Omi giggled.  
  
"Oh Yohji-koi, you really are a softie!"  
  
*****************  
  
"-And there he was, sitting on the bathroom floor, just -chewing- on it as if it were one of his stupid knives-"  
  
Crawford sighed deeply as Schuldich chattered on and on in his ear. The two were currently waiting for the arrival of the Weiss kitties at the Italian restaurant, and Schuldich was taking the opportunity to explain his entire range of life experiences to a very bored Brad. His attention wandered to the pair of arguing idiots seated at the table behind his.  
  
"Ah jist can' -stand- it!" the orange-haired, fanged, wildly gesticulating one proclaimed loudly. "He's jist such a-"  
  
"Anou, Tasuki, please, not here noda," his companion requested nervously, blue bangs shuddering lightly. "I know you and Tamahome-san don't really get along-"  
  
"Git along! Yeh're kidding me! He's never listenin' ta me, he's always tryin' things, an' then he's got that attitude-"  
  
"Tasuki! Please! Keep your voice down, noda! People are trying to eat, noda!" Tasuki rolled his bright eyes.  
  
"I'm naht botherin' nobody, ya worrywart!" Brad flinched and decided to interject his opinion. Turning around in his chair, he faced the emotional stranger (his own carrot-top kept on blathering, apparently failing to notice that he'd lost the other man's attention). Brad pushed his glasses back up on his nose and gave the man a light sneer.  
  
"Actually, you're disrupting my conversation quite a bit. If it's not too much trouble, would you mind shutting up?"  
  
The two men stared at him, aghast. Then the blue-haired one stammered and grasped his friend's arm, tugging his startled companion toward the door. "S - sumimasen - we - we were just leaving, noda." They hurriedly stumbled away from the table and across the restaurant, shooting him anxious backward glances. Brad smirked, then turned back to Schuldich and sighed. Despite the distraction, Schuldich was still talking. To say the man was a motor mouth was definitely sugarcoating it.  
  
Thankfully, Schuldich's lengthy epic was ended by the timely arrival of Aya and Ken, who made their way carefully across the crowded restaurant. Ken, being a social person, was clearly quite excited about the dinner in spite of the fact that he was not a great friend to the Schwartz members. Aya, on the other hand, was looking rather displeased about the whole situation. Crawford didn't have to be a telepath to read the look in the redhead's eyes. It was the same feeling of //Someone please rescue me from this hell// that Brad was currently experiencing himself. He caught the man's violet eyes and the two shared a look of pure sympathy before Aya sat down. Schuldich paused in his ramblings long enough to greet the two with his trademark grin before quickly wrapping up his tirade.  
  
"So that's why you should keep Farf locked up, Bradley! I mean, he ate my toothbrush! Do you know how expensive those things are?" Brad sighed.  
  
"Schuldich, I don't care whether Farfello ate your toothbrush or not. It took you 45 minutes to tell that story. Does the word 'concise' mean anything to you?" Schuldich pouted, and Ken sniggered quietly. The German stuck his tongue out at Ken, and both leaders rolled their eyes.  
  
"If you two aren't even going to get along, let's go home," Aya growled. Ken's eyes got very wide and he grabbed Aya's wrist.  
  
"What? But we just got here!" He blinked sadly and forced Aya to sit back down. "Can we stay, Aya? Please? Schuldich and I'll be good." Aya sighed, but he stayed at the table and shot Schuldich a glare. Ken bit his lip nervously, then slid his fingers through Aya's and gripped his hand tightly. Aya raised an eyebrow, but he said nothing.  
  
The waitress arrived at that point with the food for all of them, which Crawford had conveniently ordered ahead of time. Ken's eyes widened as the young girl set a steaming plate of spaghetti down in front of him. "Wow!" he cried aloud. "How did you know what I wanted?" Crawford gave him a look, and Ken blushed lightly. "Oh, yeah. . . I forgot." As he dug into his pasta, Ken smiled giddily at the Schwartz members. "Sorry we're late. We, uh, kinda got lost." Schuldich waved him off.  
  
"It's nothing; I was just telling my future lover here all about myself."  
  
Crawford glared daggers at him. "For the last time, Schuldich, I am not, and never will be, your-" At that precise moment, Brad was hit with a huge premonition. He froze as his mind was completely overwhelmed by the potent images.  
  
~//Sighing, Brad dug his house keys out of the front pocket of his Armani suit. He shoved them roughly into the slot and pushed the door open. He'd had a terrible time at the office - whatever evil, corrupt businessman he was working for now had been especially nagging that day, and Brad's headache was so bad he was even having trouble receiving his precognitive visions. As he strode into the hallway, he suddenly saw Schuldich in front of him on the floor, lying in a pool of red liquid. . .  
  
Crawford's eyes widened, and he hurled himself to Schuldich's side, pulling the still German into his arms. "Schuldich!" he cried, panicking when he received no answer. "Schu, speak to me! No, you can't leave me!" He clutched his lover's prostrate form against his chest, ignoring the blood that spilled across his designer clothing. Schuldich's head rolled back against Crawford's shoulder, but the man made no movement. Brad clenched his fingers into the flaming hair and tucked his face against Schuldich's neck. Why? Why hadn't he seen something this important before it happened? What was he going to do without Schuldich by his side?  
  
Even as these terrible thoughts were running through his mind, Brad was suddenly assaulted by the overwhelming smell of. . . strawberry? What the hell? Schuldich didn't use strawberry shampoo - Schuldich used Vanilla Cinnamon. Brad pulled back to see Schuldich blinking up at him, crocodile tears gathering in his eyes.  
  
"Oh Bradley, you really do love me," Schuldich cooed. Brad shot up from the ground, dropping Schuldich back into the puddle of strawberry jam. "Ouch!" Schuldich yelped as he fell out of Crawford's lap. Brad glared menacingly at him.  
  
"Dammit, Schuldich! What the hell was that for?! Do you know how much you scared me?" he yelled, trembling with either rage or fear - he wasn't sure which. Schuldich rose slowly and made his way to where Brad was standing, stepping carefully around the patches of jam littering the floor. He unwound Brad's arms from where they were crossed over the man's chest and settled them around his jam-covered waist, leaning up to wrap his arms about his leader's neck.  
  
"Yes, I know exactly how much it scared you - that was the point Bradley. You fought me for so long that I wanted to find out how you -really- feel about me. When I saw the expression on your face, I knew." Schuldich gave him a sly grin and curled his strawberried fingers into Brad's hair. "Think of it this way, mein Bradley - at least I'm not dead, ja?"  
  
"You will be if you ever pull something like that again," Crawford growled. Schuldich just laughed and kissed him soundly. Wrapping his arms more tightly around the German's waist, Brad decided to let the whole thing go - that is, until he remembered the jam. He broke away and scowled down at his lover. "And you're cleaning all this up," he threatened. Schuldich just kissed him again.//~  
  
"Bradley?" A nasal voice broke through his thoughts. He shook his head to clear it and found himself staring into the semi-worried eyes of his Schuldich - HIS Schuldich? Huh? What had come over him? Then Brad remembered the premonition, and he closed his eyes briefly. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he knew he'd have to admit that he'd liked Schuldich for quite some time. And that if he ever found Schuldich lying in a pool of strawberry jam, he'd probably flip out. And that if the only way to avoid such a scare was to marry Schuldich, then he'd just have to suffer through forever with the obnoxious, garrulous, pestering, evil, dangerous, amusing, beautiful, and decidedly wonderful German. Brad allowed a small smile to creep onto his face as various happy visions flashed across his mind's eye. Maybe life with Schuldich wouldn't be so bad after all.  
  
He sighed and looked up to catch Schuldich's confused gaze. He ignored the two Weiss members, who were looking at him as though he'd lost his mind - which, what with his most recent decision, wasn't a ridiculous argument. Then he reached across the checkered tablecloth and took Schu's hand, much to the man's surprise. "Schuldich," he began, "I have something to tell you." He paused then, careful to keep his mind blocked against any German telepathic perusing. "I just had a vision. A very important vision. It's going to change the course of our lives."  
  
Schuldich frowned slightly. "You're not pregnant or anything, are you?" Brad scowled, then smiled and shook his head.  
  
"I certainly hope not. That's not what I saw at all. What I saw was that it's not worth the effort it would take to fight you over this proposal thing. And," he added as an afterthought, "there's really no one else I would spend eternity with. I give up, Schu. You win. I'll marry you."  
  
Schuldich blinked several times, then smiled dazzlingly. "You'll marry me? Really you will?" Brad nodded. Schuldich threw his arms around the American's neck and hugged him tightly. "Oh Bradley!" he squealed. Brad smiled for a moment, then he began to gasp and his face turned blue.  
  
"S - Schu - can't - breathe-" Schuldich ignored him. Aya and Ken glanced at each other, and then decided simultaneously that it was time to leave this happy moment (and the check) to the Schwartz members. They got up and moved away from the table. Unfortunately, Ken's clumsiness decided to kick in just at that moment, and he tripped over his own feet. He went hurtling into the table, which tilted irrevocably and sent Ken's plate of tomato sauce flying right onto Schuldich's head. Schuldich shrieked and dropped Bradley, who had fainted. Aya grabbed Ken's arm and lugged him across the room quickly, dodging waiters and customers with cat-like grace. As they hurried out the door, Ken could still hear Schuldich screaming, "My hair! My beautiful hair! I'll get you, Weiss, if it's the last thing I do!"  
  
"Well," Aya remarked cynically, "I guess the friendship's over."  
  
*********************  
  
"I think we lost them," Ken panted as he and Aya came to a stop behind an enormous tree. After they'd dashed out of the restaurant, various waiters and cashiers had chased them for a few miles, obviously believing they were leaving without paying (which they were, after all). It seemed their pursuers had finally given up, and Ken leaned back against the tree bark, sighing softly. Aya came to stand beside him.  
  
"That, I have to admit, was a brilliant shot," Aya commented lightly. Ken looked up and smiled, knowing Aya was referring to the accidental headdress he'd given Schuldich on their way out the door. The brunette gave a hearty laugh.  
  
"He probably won't be able to get it out for weeks!" Ken crowed, imagining Schuldich whining to Crawford 24/7 until the problem was fixed. As he thought about the pair, his eyes brightened and he looked out across the field in front of him. "They are cute together, though, aren't they?" he asked casually. Aya raised an eyebrow. Ken smiled at him. "I hope they're happy together."  
  
Aya's gaze softened. "That's just like you, Ken. Wanting everyone, even your enemies to be happy - you're always so kind to others." Ken blushed. Aya smiled, watching in amusement as the scarlet streaked across Ken's face for the first time that day. "It's what I love most about you. . . " he said absently.  
  
Ken's head shot up, and Aya felt himself turning red. What the hell had he just said?! Ken was looking at him in something akin to confusion, no doubt replaying the redhead's words in his mind. "A - Aya?" Ken asked incredulously. Aya tried to stammer an excuse, then gave up and stalked away. Ken started. "Oi, Aya, wait up!" He hurried after his companion and caught the other's arm, content to let the situation drop once he saw the beet red color of Aya's cheeks.  
  
//I wonder what he meant by that?// Ken mused, hugging Aya's arm tighter. //Surely he couldn't - he doesn't-// He glanced up at Aya once more and then focused on the sidewalk. //Oh, I wish. . . maybe I'll ask him about it tomorrow.//  
  
//That was a stupid thing to say, but I just can't help it!// Aya thought angrily. //I want to tell him so badly. . . tomorrow. I'll tell him tomorrow.//  
  
//Tomorrow.//  
  
**************************  
  
Yay! I finally finished this darn chapter! It took -forever-. Anyway - okay! Two days left! Confrontation and conclusion. There wasn't a lot about either Yohji or Omi in this chapter - rest assured they'll be back for the next one. I have to say I really liked the visual of Schuldich with spaghetti in his hair - call me sadistic. Please review! Again, sorry for the wait! Ja ne! ^_^ 


	6. Day 6: The Last Battle

Disclaimers/ warnings: First chapter. Yay for continuity!  
  
A/N: My friend SunLyght is helping me write this author's note. All hail! ^-^ I got Internet in my room so I downloaded this cute wallpaper from animeart.com! The Weiss boys are all dressed in these white suits - I think it's supposed to be a Christmas picture. I know that nobody really cared about that little tidbit of information. Still, I'm really excited about it. Okay! This is the second-to-last chapter, and it's the confrontation part. I really hope everyone's enjoyed this story. It's slowly coming to an end. . I'm gonna miss all this. Actually, I have another story in my mind right now, but you'll have to wait 'till next chapter to get the scoop on that one.  
  
Who's ready for a really happy and kawaii chapter? I am! Yay for AyaxKen!  
  
************************  
  
When first light shattered sweetly across Tokyo the next day, the streets were still deserted and the storefronts empty. The birds and insects were alone in their orchestra and found no audience on human ears, while the breeze amused itself by dancing playfully across the surface of a nearby lake. Clouds whisked overhead with the same hurried attitude of the one lone figure stalking down the sidewalk.  
  
He was dressed all in black, short blonde locks falling precisely over his forehead and partially veiling his golden eyes. His handsome face was twisted grimly into a determined smile, and he clutched a white envelope tightly in his left hand.  
  
Finally he paused in front of a flower shop, one Koneko no Sumu Ie, and his smile widened. Leaning down, he slipped the envelope under the door. Then He turned and walked away, leaving no sign of his presence.  
  
The sunlight slowly crept across the shop floor, finally coming to rest on a stark white envelope bearing the inscription: To Tsukiyono Omi.  
  
**********************  
  
"Thank you very much! Please come again!" Omi sang out as he rang up yet another customer. The various fan legions twittered and giggled at his standard polite send-off.  
  
"Oh he's so kawaii!" Fangirl #57 giggled.  
  
"It just makes me want to squeeze him!" declared Fangirl # 4. They all nodded in agreement. "Our lovable little Omi-chan!" A chorus of giggles and happy squeaks erupted from the crowd. Yohji scowled.  
  
"-My- Omi-chan," he grumbled. Ken smiled at him, and then gave his arm a light punch.  
  
"You're gonna have to fight 'em for him!" he joked, lugging a large potted plant across the store. Yohji rolled his eyes.  
  
"I think I could handle it." Ken briefly imagined Yohji stringing the fangirls up by their ankles to protect his boyfriend. The thought made him laugh, and briefly lifted the dark cloud of worry floating about his head.  
  
When he'd been lying awake the night before, trying to hold off dreams of a certain someone, he'd finally decided that the only thing to do - the only real option - was to go for broke and tell Aya honestly how he felt. And after about three torturous hours, he had a plan. So, gathering his courage, he waited until Yohji and Omi left the room to unpack the new supplies and then worked his way over to where Aya stood, watering can in hand. Ken cleared his throat lightly and glanced away when Aya looked up.  
  
"Uh, hey Aya," Ken began, slapping himself mentally. //Brilliant start, baka,// his mind chastised. Pressing on, he added, "So, um, I was just thinking that - maybe if you don't have any plans this evening - we could just, you know, hang out together or something?" He shifted uncomfortably.  
  
Aya considered momentarily. //How convenient,// he mused. //That would be the perfect opportunity to tell him how much I - I-// he blushed lightly as he nodded. Fortunately, Ken was too relieved to notice.  
  
"Great!" Ken exclaimed, practically trembling with nerves. "I'll see ya around 8?" Aya nodded again, containing his smile just in time. //He actually thought I'd say no? Doesn't he know how much I treasure the time we spend together?// He then proceeded, somewhat against his will, to daydream about the brunette.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by a startled gasp. He whirled to see Omi holding a white piece of paper and shaking lightly. The fangirls went silent as the boy's teammates quickly made their way to his side. Yohji dropped an arm casually around Omi's waist and pulled him against his side. "What's the matter, Omittchi?" he asked gently.  
  
Omi's voice shook as he answered, "I - I found this letter on the floor - it was addressed to me-"  
  
"What's it say?" Ken inquired, peering over the boy's shoulder. Aya took the note from the trembling blonde and raised a delicate eyebrow.  
  
"Come to the Hapa Sushi Bar - ALONE - at 7:30 this evening OR ELSE," he intoned dryly. Omi shuddered and Yohji's arms tightened around him. Ken blinked, then smiled reassuringly at Omi while unconsciously gripping Aya's forearm.  
  
"Er, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Omi," Ken said, lacing his tone with forced cheer. Then he returned to his station to finish the arrangements, seemingly reluctant to let go of Aya's arm. Aya's breath caught, but he pretended he hadn't noticed and went back to watering. A moment later, after the fuss had died down and the noise level was steadily rising again, Ken let out a startled cry. Aya was at his side immediately, struggling to keep a calm expression. "Ken?" he asked. The brunette turned to him, wide-eyed.  
  
"A - Aya. . . this arrangement - it's for Yohji," he stammered. Aya didn't see anything unusual in this. "Read the card," Ken continued shakily, handing it to the redhead as he spoke. Aya perused it, eyebrows reaching his hairline. //Come along and it'll be your life,// the card read cruelly. Aya looked back to Ken, who was obviously shocked.  
  
"Aya - that's not a death threat, is it?" he gulped nervously. Aya tried to give him a reassuring look, settling for 'Don't worry - they're just after Kudou.' //If it were you,// Aya continued mentally, //I'd find this person and slice him up so small he'd disappear.// As he thought this, Yohji snatched the card out of his hand and laughed shortly.  
  
"Like hell I'm letting him go alone," he bit out. Aya nodded, for once glad that Yohji tended to defy orders. Despite his cold exterior, he really did care for his teammates, deep down inside (or maybe not so deep when it came to Ken), and he didn't want any harm to come to the lovable hacker either. Yohji might be a bumbling idiot, but Aya knew he was also a well-trained assassin and very loyal to those he cared about. Omi was certainly the top of -that- list. Besides, Aya wasn't worried about Yohji - the man knew how to take care of himself.  
  
Omi grasped Yohji's hand in his, ignoring the strange looks the fangirls were giving him. "You'll come with me, Yohji-ko - er, Yohji-kun?" Yohji smiled down at him.  
  
"You bet, Omittchi - wouldn't want a cute little thing like you facing your stalker alone." He winked at Omi's sputter and turned back to the cash register, mentally preparing himself for the evening's adventure.  
  
//If it's a fight they want,// Yohji thought, gritting his teeth, //it's a fight they're gonna get.//  
  
*******************  
  
Brad Crawford sat on the couch, a newspaper propped open in his lap and a cooling cup of coffee on the table beside him. Unconsciously, he fiddled with the engagement ring on his hand, running his fingers over the precious stone as he read the 'Lifestyles' section. He was still having trouble believing that he was getting married - married! Him! Brad Crawford! It was hard to imagine really. He sighed a little and turned the page.  
  
"Bradley!" came a cheerful nasal voice. Brad smiled very slightly. His German boyfriend waltzed into the living room wearing nothing but a bath towel. Brad blushed lightly. Schuldich grinned at him. "I'm going to take a shower Bradley - care to join me?"  
  
Brad's blush deepened, and he ducked further into his newspaper. Schuldich laughed heartily and kissed his cheek, striding out of the room.  
  
Suddenly, Brad put the Marta Stewart article down as a vision came into his head. A rubber ducky? What in the world would -that- be doing at the top of the stairs? Suddenly, he heard a startled yelp. Then a -thump- . Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump. Brad winced. Schuldich, he guessed, had stepped on the duck and fallen down the stairs. He heard another yell, and groaned. Who had put oil all over the hallway? He heard a crash as Schuldich connected with the far wall. "BRAAAAAAADLEEEEEEEY!" came an enraged shriek from the direction Schuldich had gone. Brad dropped his head into his hands. Nagi and Farfello, who'd been hiding behind a potted plant, snickered.  
  
"Ne, do you have a headache, Crawford?" Nagi asked innocently. Farfello chuckled evilly.  
  
"He's engaged to a headache, Naggles," he crowed. Brad glared at him.  
  
"You set that up, didn't you?" he accused. Farfello just laughed and tugged Nagi out of the room. Schuldich came to stand in the doorway - a rubber duck in his hand, body slick with olive oil, small pieces of plaster in his hair. Schuldich folded his arms across his chest.  
  
"Bradley," he began, a whine creeping into his tone. Brad sighed and fell to his knees on the carpet.  
  
"Why me? Why God why?!" he cried. Above him, Farfello let out a scream. Schuldich began to complain and moan. Nagi's fingers tapped across the keyboard. Brad began hitting his head against the floor. It was another normal day in the Schwartz household.  
  
********************  
  
Aya sighed softly as he scrubbed the countertops with a pink-and- yellow, sudsy sponge. It was closing time - Omi was currently flipping out about his threatening note and Yohji was grumbling as he created various arrangements for the next day. The only person who was vaguely sane at present, Ken, was out "shopping." Despite his best efforts to the contrary, Aya couldn't keep himself from wondering what Ken needed to buy all of a sudden.  
  
As he was thinking this, the door burst open and Ken strode in, humming quietly to himself and clutching a bag to his chest. Aya let a small smile flit across his face and moved to greet the brunette, glad he no longer had to deal with other two alone. Ken looked up, absolutely beaming in the fading sunlight - when he saw Aya approaching, his smile grew even more and he tightened his hold on the bag. Aya paused a few feet from him, eyebrow raised.  
  
"What did you buy?" he asked, trying to sound uninterested. Ken tapped his nose and giggled - it was endearing though, and didn't give him a headache like the constant fangirls' giggles did.  
  
"Wouldn't you like to know," Ken cooed happily, pushing past him and into the store. Aya stifled the urge to roll his eyes and followed the brunette. Yohji didn't even notice the new arrival, but Omi looked up and immediately began expatiating on his problems.  
  
"Oh, Ken-kun, you're back what am I going to do?! I don't want to go but he said or else and I want to bring Yohji-koi along but oh what if he gets hurt what would I do and why does he want me anyway I'm just a flower boy wait you don't think he knows about Weiss do you oh no maybe he's going to come here and-" Finally tiring of this seemingly infinite tirade, Ken dug through his bag and shoved a stick of pocky into Omi's mouth, effectively shutting him up. Omi's eyes widened, then he smiled and mumbled a garbled thanks. Ken grinned and tossed one to Yohji, who merely grumbled. Turning uncertainly, he hesitated, one more pocky in hand, meant for Aya of course. The redhead gave him a soft look and took it silently, pleased that Ken would think to bring him something. Ken grinned at him before turning back to Yohji ad Omi.  
  
"You guys really ought to get moving," he commented, resting his bag on the counter. "You'll be late to meet Mr. Stalker if you don't leave soon." Omi squeaked and Yohji tensed, then he grabbed Omi's hand and the two left the store, walking slowly down the darkening sidewalk. Ken let the smile die from his face, then sighed and turned to Aya.  
  
"They'll be okay, right Aya?" he asked, worried despite his best efforts. Aya came to stand beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder. Words failed him, as usual, but the action was enough, and Ken smiled up at him. "Right. That's a dumb question - sorry." His eyes lit up, and he regained is monstrous grin. "I have something to do, so - um - just come up when you're ready, okay?" With that, he snatched his bag and shot up the stairs. Aya blinked, then shook his head and went off in search of food. No sense facing Ken on an empty stomach.  
  
**********************  
  
Omi clutched Yohji's hand tightly as he peered from side to side, searching the Hapa Sushi Bar for anyone suspicious-looking. He fidgeted in his seat and gripped Yohji's hand more tightly, glad that at least he wasn't alone. This thought put a small smile on his face.  
  
Yohji was so sweet - coming along despite the flower arrangement he'd been sent. It made Omi all tingly inside to think Yohji cared this much about him. He sighed. No matter who this person was, or what they wanted, he'd be all right as long as Yohji was with him.  
  
The door opened abruptly, and they looked up. A man dressed entirely in black with blonde hair approached their table and scowled down at them, glaring particularly at Yohji. "You," he spat out in greeting, "were not supposed to come."  
  
Yohji's eyes flickered in anger. "What are you going to do about it, may I ask?" he said calmly, tone betraying him. The two glared at each other for a moment longer, then the stranger sighed in frustration and sat down.  
  
"Nothing. But must you make things so difficult?" Omi and Yohji were stunned. This man didn't really intend to harm them? What was going on? Clearing his throat hesitantly, Omi inquired,  
  
"Anou, I don't mean to be rude, but. . . why did you ask us here?" The man glared at him, then shrugged and started in on Yohji's plate of spring rolls. Yohji looked seriously affronted.  
  
"My name," the stranger said, "is Yuki Eiri. I-"  
  
"Yuki Eiri?!" Omi squealed. "You're that famous author!"  
  
The man looked annoyed. "Keep your voice down, would you? The last thing I need is a fan gathering." Omi nodded and gulped, understanding perfectly. Yohji snorted.  
  
"Pretty arrogant, aren't you?" he commented dryly, grabbing his food away from the man's hands. Yuki shot him a look.  
  
"And why shouldn't I be? Top of the bestsellers list for 6 months in a row, thank you very much." Yohji rolled his eyes. The author turned back to Omi. "To continue - there's this annoying kid that follows me around. His name is Shuichi. He demanded I write a story about our. . . relationship. But that takes too much work; I'm used to observing other people. I'm going to use the two of you as my character base, and I had a few questions."  
  
Yohji started, surprised. "Why us? We're just your average sappy, romantic gay couple."  
  
Yuki glared at him. "I noticed you in the park the other day. You fit into my storyline. And don't question genius." Yohji bit back a harsh laugh.  
  
Omi smiled nervously at the two of them. "Okay, Yuki-kun, that's all fine, but I have a question. Why did you send me that scary letter? It wasn't very nice, and I would've answered your questions if you'd just asked."  
  
Yuki snorted. "Threats are more effective. Now start speaking."  
  
Omi pouted, then smiled deviously. If it was an interview he wanted, he would get one, and Omi was leaving -nothing- out.  
  
**************************  
  
Ken sighed as he sat back on his heels, staring at the freshly-wrapped gift beside him. The soft red candles - the only source of light in the room - cast twisting shadows all over the redhead's present. It was something he'd bought for Aya while shopping today - he'd decided that bribery might be a safeguard when admitting one's feelings to the resident redhead. Ken groaned aloud as various images of himself being skewered by Aya's katana floated through his mind. Well, it was too late now. He'd invited Aya upstairs to his room, he'd bought the gift, he'd made up his mind. . .  
  
There came a knock at the door, and Ken jumped. //Oh my gosh that's him!// Ken thought frantically, then smacked his head against the wall. //get a hold of yourself!// he demanded silently. The knock came again, louder this time.  
  
"Ken?" Aya called through the door. "Ken? Are you there?"  
  
"Oh yeah, just a sec-" CRASH! Aya started as a loud noise exploded from behind the door. Panicking, Aya wrenched the barrier open to see that Ken had apparently tripped over his dirty laundry and favorite soccer ball and collided with his standing lamp. The brunette peeked out from under the lampshade and grinned sheepishly.  
  
"Er, hi Aya," he tried, struggling up through his clothing and various electrical cords. Aya chuckled and helped him up.  
  
"Hi yourself," he intoned. Ken beamed up at him, then snatched something from the floor and hid it behind his back. Aya blinked, thenshook it off and held out his palm to the brunette. "I brought you something," he mumbled, fighting a blush. Ken grinned. He took the proffered object and, upon finding it to be candy, enthusiastically wolfed it down.  
  
"Sugar!" he exclaimed. "What'd I do to deserve that, Aya?" Aya shrugged.  
  
"Well, you gave me the pocky earlier, and. . . " Ken smiled at him and nodded. Then his expression became apprehensive, and he swallowed hard.  
  
"Um, sit down," he suggested, motioning toward the bed as his chair was currently overflowing with junk. Aya complied but remained silent. "I have something for you, too." Ken managed, obviously nervous.  
  
"I was out shopping today because - well - y'know, your birthday was a couple months ago. And, I'm really sorry, I forgot all about it, but-" he broke off and shoved a package into Aya's hands. "I hope this'll make it up to you," he murmured.  
  
Aya blinked down at the semi-lumpy package he'd been handed and allowed Ken a small smile. His birthday? Hell, they'd -all- forgotten, his birthday, and this wasn't a rare occurrence. Only one year, in fact, could he remember Weiss throwing him a birthday party, and his reaction had been less than stellar.  
  
//Flashback//  
  
~Aya slowly opened the door to the Koneko, his shoulders slumped. He'd just returned from visiting his sister - alone as always. He fought back a sigh and slipped the perfect, icy mask back on. He preferred it that way, he told himself - solitude his only companion.  
  
As he entered the living room, words left him and his usually frozen countenance fell to the floor and shattered. There stood his three teammates, all in ridiculous polka-dotted hats, one of which Yohji quickly strapped over Aya's hair. A huge, oddly shaped cake with bright pink frosting grinned cheekily at him from the counter, and a small pile of gifts sat beside it, practically glowing with colorful wrapping paper. Over their heads hung a huge banner reading: 'Happy Birthday Aya-kun!' Aya blinked. Then he snorted and, ignoring his comrades, stalked toward the stairs. A firm grip on his elbow halted his progress, and he turned to look into the impassioned brown eyes of the resident soccer player.  
  
"Oi, Aya - Omi and Yohji and I went to a lot of trouble to set all this up. I know you don't really care about our feelings one way or another, but the least you could do is try to -act- appreciative!" Aya grunted. He turned for the stairs again, but hesitated when he saw the hurt and stubbornness radiating from Ken's eyes. He saw the glittery tears threatening to pour down Omi's cheeks. He saw the anger riddled in Yohji's expression. With a sigh, he turned back to the gathering and let Ken pull him into the living room, where he proceeded to experience one of the best birthday parties of his life.~  
  
//End Flashback//  
  
Aya shook the memory away as Ken coughed nervously and shifted his feet. Not without reason, his fellow assassins had taken his actions to mean he resented their efforts and had forever after ignored his birthday when it rolled around. Except now. Why? Why change that all of a sudden?  
  
"Why?" he asked gently, the thought coming almost unbidden to his lips. Ken looked confused.  
  
"I told you. Your birthday-" Aya raised a hand to stop him.  
  
"No. Why. . . did you bother?" he pressed, still trying to keep his voice kind. Ken shifted where he stood.  
  
"I just - wanted to do something for you, that's all," Ken mumbled, wringing his hands wretchedly. Maybe he shouldn't have bought anything after all. Aya had never shown interest in his birthday - this was a bad idea, he knew it. Without warning, he felt a light tug on his wrist as he was pulled down to sit beside Aya on the bed. Ken blushed.  
  
"Thank you," Aya breathed. Ken's heart fluttered. Aya gently pried the wrapping paper off his belated birthday gift. And stared. In his hands, collared by a bright red bow, was a yellow, soft creature with black stripes and big plush eyes. Aya started. Ken looked away. "This. . . this is. . . " Aya stammered, looking over the Pokemon plushie in his hands.  
  
Ken's blush darkened. "Yeah - Pikachu. I know it's pretty dumb, but, well. . . I remembered you liked it, and I couldn't think of anything else. . . "  
  
Ken was interrupted by a quiet finger across his lips. He looked up into Aya's gaze and was surprised to see what could only be described as sparkles and shoujo bubbles in the redhead's violet eyes. Aya smiled at him, and Ken felt himself stop breathing.  
  
Aya's thoughts were a jumbled mess as he stared at the Pokemon. He didn't think he'd ever been happier during all the years he'd been in Weiss. Ken's thoughtfulness was amazing. He stopped the flow of self- depreciating words coming from Ken's lips and smiled sincerely at the brunette.  
  
The gift was just so representative of the man he'd fallen in love with. It wasn't eloquent. It wasn't contrived. It wasn't extraordinarily practical. But it was cute, soft, and sweet - it had big eyes and unbreakable loyalty and a cheerful personality and, he was sure, a heart of gold overflowing with love and caring for those around him. Even cold- hearted, bastardly ones like Aya himself.  
  
Aya shook his head as he thought this. No - his heart wasn't cold anymore. Ken's warmth had melted it into a puddle of lovesick goo. And if Ken wanted it, Ken could have it. The thought widened his smile even more - Ken stared at him, his own features washed with relief. It looked like Aya wasn't angry with him after all.  
  
Aya reached out and cupped Ken's cheek in his hand. "Ken," he whispered, eyes shining with what might have been unshed tears. Ken blinked at the unexpected contact. "Thank you very much," he managed, lacing their fingers together. Ken's eyes widened as Aya leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his tanned cheek, whispering 'chu' as he drew back. The brunette's mind went numb. //He - he kissed me! Holy cow, he kissed me!// Aya's eyes shone as he pulled away, looking somewhat anxious. //Answer him!// Ken's mind encouraged. //Do it! Now!//  
  
"Aya. . . " he croaked, clutching at his courage with all his might. "Aya, I - I love. . . you." Aya started. Ken pulled his hand away and squeezed his eyes shut. There. He'd finally said it. He felt a pale hand tangle itself in his deep chocolate hair, and his eyes blinked open. Aya was smiling beautifully at him, and there was no katana in sight.  
  
"Do you. . . mean that?" Aya asked finally, unable to contain his joy. Ken nodded, still worried.  
  
"Aya. . . I. . . I know it's kinda unexpected, but. . . I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it," he answered softly. His words echoed in the still air. Without warning, Aya tugged him firmly into his arms and against his chest, burying his face in his friend's brown locks as he did so. Ken looked up, surprised at his reaction.  
  
"Aya?" he breathed, hardly daring to believe what his mind was telling him. The answering expression in the redhead's eyes banished whatever doubts he'd been feeling.  
  
"I l-love you, too, Ken," Aya murmured. Ken's eyes softened. "I love you, too."  
  
Their lips met in the quiet candlelight; as their eyes slipped closed, a small breeze sifted through the light curtains and brushed the candle flames out, playing across their skin. Ken shivered - Aya pulled him closer. Ken's warm eyes looked up into his as they parted and Aya found himself falling all over again. //I'm not quite sure what it is you do to me, Ken,// Aya mused. //But whatever it is, I hope you never stop.//  
  
As Aya leaned down to kiss him again, Ken found his thoughts dwelling on his two best friends. //Thanks Yohji, Omi,// he reflected silently as he lost all conscious thought. //We couldn't have done it without you.// Aya broke apart from his lover once more to gaze into the younger man's deep eyes.  
  
//I should buy Yohji something,// he thought fleetingly. //Even though there's not a thing in the world that could come close to what he's given me. My Ken. Finally.//  
  
//Mine.//  
  
End Day 6  
  
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Whew! Finally! Gosh this was a long chapter. But that means it's pretty much done! All we have left is the epilogue of sorts - y'know, the really really happy ending that wraps it all up. I hope everybody enjoyed this story. I know I did. Please review and tell me what you thought - it means a lot to me. Ja ne! ^-* 


	7. Day 7: The Mission

Disclaimers/ warnings: Still in the first chapter. I should put them somewhere else just to be tricky.  
  
A/N: WAHHHHHHH! The last chapter! You don't even want to know how many class lectures I missed trying to get this one done. And then I had to start on the other one, too. . .  
  
You see, I have a friend Rei-chan. And she read my stories. And she said they were okay. But she's not really a big A/K fan so she had some trouble enjoying them (naturally). So I asked her to tell me what her favorite pairing was, and I said I'd write a story about them instead. She went all red in the face - she's so funny that way - and said Yohji/Schuldich. So I'm writing her story. It's going to be called 'What Yohji Learned at Summer Camp' and should be posted fairly soon. Hopefully some of you are versatile enough to like the Yohji/Schuldich pairing too and you'll read it. I can't say I'm a huge fan but - hey. Whatever. The things we do for friends!  
  
So, yeah. Please read it after I eventually get it up. Now let's get on with this!  
  
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Night seems long, but the sun always rises, and so it did that Sunday. The bright light streaming through Ken's window pranced about a bit before settling across the young man's face. He shifted, groaned, and then suddenly halted as he felt arms around him again. Ken sighed. A dream. It was just a dream, as usual. He let his eyes flicker open. And, to his absolute shock, the dream didn't fade. Pale arms still encircled his waist and held him against the soft, warm fabric of his lover's turtleneck. Aya gave a soft moan at his movement and opened his beautiful eyes, crimson hair splayed messily across the white pillow. Ken smiled.  
  
"Morning. . . " the redhead said, more as a question than a greeting. Ken nodded. Aya groaned and pulled him back deeper into the circle of his arms, mumbling something under his breath. Ken closed his eyes for a moment to savor the feeling of being held so tightly. He leaned up and kissed Aya's soft lips, still somewhat dazed from his dream-turned- reality. Aya responded sleepily before pulling away and tucking Ken's face against his pale neck, winding wandering fingers into his koi's soft hair. Ken giggled as he wrapped his arms around Aya's body. This was as close to Heaven as he'd probably ever get, and it was close enough in his eyes.  
  
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. Omi's cheerful voice echoed through the bedroom. "Ken-kun! Time to get up for work! You and Yohji-koi have the morning shift today!" he called. Ken groaned again and snuggled into Aya.  
  
"Mmmm. . . maybe if I ignore him he'll go away," he muttered. Aya chuckled. At the door, Omi paused, surprised. Was that Aya's voice coming from inside Ken's room? Wisely, Omi decided to leave.  
  
About ten minutes later, Ken stumbled down the stairs with Aya right behind him. He yawned loudly as he reached the table and leaned on its smooth surface. Yohji gloated at him, obviously failing to notice how close he and Aya were this morning.  
  
"Sleep well, Kenken?" Yohji teased. Despite his exhaustion, Ken managed to grin at him.  
  
"Best night in weeks," he answered cheekily. Yohji raised an eyebrow. Aya looked at Yohji. He looked at Ken. He looked at Omi. He smirked. Then he slid his arms around Ken and pulled him flush against his chest, nuzzling the brunette's ear. Ken shivered happily, Omi gawked, and Yohji paused in his snide comments.  
  
"Was it really?" Aya murmured. Ken shuddered again as Aya's breath brushed his neck. He purred a little and nodded. Yohji's jaw hit the ground, a look of dismay fixing itself to his features. Pleased, Aya looked up from teasing Ken and met the tall blonde's eye. "I win, you lose," he said simply. Ken looked confused. To quiet him, Aya spun him around and kissed him deeply, eliciting a light moan from his new boyfriend. Yohji stared at him.  
  
"That's it?" he asked, dumbfounded, as the two finally broke for air. Aya shot him a look. "That's what you meant by seduce?"  
  
Aya's glare was at its iciest. "What -exactly- did you -think- I meant?" he ground out, pulling Ken closer to him. "Ken's -mine-. That was the point, -wasn't it-?" He ran his hands possessively over Ken's skin and glared Yohji into the ground. Yohji sweatdropped.  
  
"Ah. . . n-nothing, of course! That was all! I think I'd - uh - better go make breakfast," he responded nervously. Aya's eyes glinted with unabashed pleasure.  
  
"Yes, I -thought- that was it," Aya growled at Yohji's retreating form. Omi blinked, then suddenly understood what Yohji had been getting at. He slapped a hand over his mouth and blushed vibrantly.  
  
"Yohji-koi!" he cried, clearly affronted. He chased his boyfriend into the kitchen, where Aya and Ken could hear him yelling at Yohji with all his might. Ken was still apparently clueless as to Yohji's intention.  
  
"Wow, he's making breakfast, huh? Cool! It was my day to cook, too!" Ken exclaimed cheerfully. Aya smiled down at his lover and kissed him again. Ken was so joyfully naïve. Or at least, that's what he thought until he felt Ken's fingers playing with the skin beneath the edge of his shirt. He pulled back gently and looked down, surprised. Ken smiled up at him, but his smile was somewhat devious this time.  
  
"You were trying to seduce me, hmm? And Yohji doesn't think a kiss counts?" he asked slyly. Aya felt himself blushing hard. Ken laughed and hugged him tightly. Aya was as innocent as Omi sometimes.  
  
Then Aya started, having remembered something. Ken gave him a questioning look. "I have something to give Yohji. Come with me?" he asked. Ken nodded and grabbed his hand as they wandered into the kitchen, obviously trying to keep contact with the redhead. Aya thought it was cute. In the kitchen they found Omi and Yohji locked in a fierce argument, which ended only when Aya coughed loudly. Omi had obviously done some good, because Yohji seemed almost ashamed.  
  
"Er - look Aya, I didn't mean it that way, well - well, okay, maybe I did, but I was only joking and-" Aya glared him into silence.  
  
"You might want to be careful with your jokes, Kudou. You're putting ideas in his head." Yohji blinked and looked at Ken, who winked at him insolently. Then he was forced to look away, as a white envelope was shoved into his face.  
  
"What's this?" he exclaimed, rather surprised when he opened it to reveal two VIP passes to a new club opening downtown. In awe, he looked into Aya's laughing eyes. "Hey - this is that new club I wanted to go to! Why'd you give me this?" he asked gleefully. Aya's gaze became wistful.  
  
"It's a gift," he answered softly as he took Ken back into his arms again. "In return for what you gave me." Yohji smiled kindly. Omi teared up immediately.  
  
"Oh that's so beautiful Aya-kun!" Omi cried, sniffling loudly and reaching for his hanky. Yohji wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders and nodded in agreement.  
  
"Yeah - pretty damn sappy though. Hey! Omittchi and I can go to this tonight!" He grinned evilly. "And I know just what he can wear!" Omi paled.  
  
"Yohji-koi! There's no way I'm wearing one of those little leather outfits you keen trying to force on me! I might as well just wear paint!" he cried out. His companions laughed at this - even Aya joined in. Their laughter drifted down the quiet Sunday street and over the glistening city like the melody to some lullaby love song. Four men. Two dreams. One mission: happily ever after.  
  
It was a beautiful day.  
  
~End Day 7~  
  
~End Checkmate~  
  
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AHHHHHHHHHH! SAP! SAP! Sap by the buckets! I'm drowning! Oh well. It was really the only way I could think of to finish up a story like this. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know please. ^-^ 


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